Anything But Oridinary
by XxSolsticeSolacexX
Summary: Kristen, an actress, is studying Bones for her latest role. Everyone at the Jeffersonian learns that this girl is anything but ordinary. This catches the attention of particular squint. Zack learns that being normal isn't all it's cracked up to be.
1. One Night

_So I've loved Bones for a very long time now and I especially love Zack. I was seriously heartbroken when they made him a murderer and sent him to the looney bin--not cool. Anyway, I've been working on some ideas for a Bones fanfic with Zack being the love interest and well, this is it. I'm not entirely how things will go or if people will like this, but I'm gonna give it a go. Thus, this is Zack centric with my own OC and it mostly be following the main plotline of seasons one, two, and three--I will tweak the whole Gormagon thing. So here's chapter one and please tell me what you think. Please, review. Thank you. _

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**Chapter One: One Night**

**One night.**

Just one night.

That's all her friends were asking for. Just one night to cut loose and have fun at the local and popular club _Rush_. And they desperately wanted her to come. She wanted to go as well, especially since it was Meghan's bachelorette party, but there was small problem with her going clubbing with them…

"What about Cheryl?" Kristen Faust asked warily, turning to the four girls. They were all standing in her living in the apartment that the twenty-one-year-old blonde girl shared with her best friend, Austen Bloom—he was at the bachelor part for Isaac Manson, Meghan's fiancé.

Zoey Lambro, the palest and the darkest-haired girl in the group, rolled her hazel orbs with a groan. That was her way of saying that Kristen was being a big worry-wart and was annoying her—the littlest things annoyed the "fake" Goth. On the other hand, Zoey's girlfriend, Charlotte Howell, a positively adorable girl with Shirley Temple blonde girls, and the brunette and brown-eyed bride-to-be, Meghan Yates exchanged looks that clearly meant they had totally forgotten about her stern, overbearing, and crazy foster mother Cheryl Quinn.

"Do you think she'll let you out tonight?" Charlotte asked the darker and longer haired blonde on the couch from the armchair shared with Zoey. Innocent curiosity was visible in her baby blues.

Kristen shook her head, a deep frown on her evenly-colored skinned face. "Doubt it, Lottie. Not on a night before an audition."

"But, Kris, it's my bachelorette party!" Meghan whined, clasping her well-manicured hands together. "It's like one of our last night together! I'm getting married, you're becoming a big TV star, and Lottie and Zo are moving to Vermont in like a month!" she pointed out.

That was all true. Meghan and Isaac were getting married in three days, finally tying the knot even though they were fresh out of college. Charlotte and Zoey were going to transferring colleges to Vermont in little under a month for their sophomore year. Kristen might land a really good acting job as a main character on a fresh new TV show even though she was just a junior in college. Austen, if Kristen got the part, would have to move out of the apartment and find a new one on campus, maybe with his new boyfriend, Max. And the last and oldest member of the group, Lyle Potts, had gotten a job at a really important law firm. The group was basically breaking up, going their separate ways. Sure, they were all really tight and would stay in touch as much as possible, but they were all going in different directions to live the lives they always wanted.

"I understand that, Meg, but you how Cheryl is. She puts most Stage-Moms to shame." Kristen said regrettably, raking her long fingers through her long locks.

Zoey scoffed, blowing her black and pink bangs out of her spectacled eyes from the corner of her mouth. "You're being too nice, Kristen. Cheryl puts _Nazis_ to shame. Why else would we call her the Fuhrer?" she stated. Charlotte and Meghan laughed while Kristen rolled her sea foam green optics—she didn't argue though because it wasn't a lie.

"Either way, Cheryl is not going to let me go out clubbing until the late hours of the night before my big audition tomorrow. She'd kill me. Well, first take away my cell phone, laptop, and car and _then_, kill me." Kristen sighed deeply, tucking her hands in the back pockets of her faded, holey, and ripped jeans with writing all over them—she was still able to wear them even after all these years.

"Isn't there _some_ way?" Charlotte questioned.

"What about Paul?" suggested her partner.

Kristen arched an eyebrow. "You mean my agent?" Zoey nodded.

"Oh, yeah!" exclaimed Megan in realization. "He totally adores you and in like in love with the Fuhrer, so maybe he can help you out!"

_Maybe…, _Kristen considered then, she made a face. "No, I couldn't do that him. Make Paul lie to Cheryl. She'd wind up killing him, too."

"_Pleeeeeeease_, Kris! For me?" Meghan pleaded, grabbing Kristen's hands after standing from the carpeted floor. "Just one night! _One_ night! Paul and you could manage that, right? Please?"

Biting on the bottom of her lip, Kristen stared up at her friend searching her desperate and pretty face. Meghan was like a princess, always wanting things her way and wanting everything, and that was her face to achieve such. Normally, it didn't work on Kristen—or anyone else, but Isaac—but right now was a different story.

_I'm sorry, Paul. _A small, hesitant grin tugged at the sides of her mouth. "Okay. I'll come."

Charlotte and Meghan cheered while Zoey smirked.

"Great! Now, let's get you into something sexy!" Meghan announced, pulling Kristen to her sneakered feet. The wavy-haired girl started to lead the green-eyed girl to her bedroom.

"Sexy?" Kristen said, apprehension in her voice as her friend dragged her. Zoey and Charlotte followed after them with amused expressions on.

"Of course! You are the only single one amongst us, so we gotta dress ya up so you won't be! Help ya nab a guy while celebrating my marriage! Duh!" Meghan claimed as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Uh…but--"

"No buts! This is happening!"

Kristen groaned.

Being killed and having her possessions being taken away by Cheryl sounded more fun than being dolled up and showcased for random, drunk, perverted guys at a club. Nevertheless, she couldn't argue with the high-strung, princess-wannabe, soon-to-be bride, Meghan and Charlotte and Zoey definitely weren't going to stop her—especially Zoey since she was sadistic like that.

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Kristen didn't mind dressing up and looking nice—what girl didn't?—but Meghan had pushed it. Meghan's way of dressing up was a bit too skimpy for Kristen's liking, but Meghan didn't care. Kristen was Meghan's Barbie doll that night and she had dressed her in the way she liked ignoring Kristen's protests.

Thus, there Kristen was in an outfit she did not completely agree with on a long line with her friends to get into _Rush_—after she had called her agent and told him to cover for her, which he did without any agreements.

Don't get her wrong, the outfit was pretty and sexy as Meghan had intended it to be, but it wasn't Kristen's style—Meghan had put her in a red midriff halter top, black leather pants that hung dangerously low on her hips, and black strappy heels. It made her want to cover herself up with her arms while bashfully avoiding any eye-contact with everyone yet, Meghan would whine and Kristen didn't want to hear that. So she just had to suck it up and act like she wasn't self-conscious at all—she could manage that, the young woman was an actor after all.

Slowly, the bouncers allowed—or didn't allow—people into the club. When it was Kristen, Meghan, Charlotte, and Zoey's turn to enter, they showed the bouncers their IDs that they were over eighteen and was permitted entry.

The minute Kristen and her friends stepped inside of _Rush_, all of her anxiety and embarrassment was whisked away by the glorious environment before her.

The large club was swarmed with drinking, chatting, and dancing people. Neon lights flashed being the only source of light. Techno music was blasted deafeningly on the speakers. The music vibrated in Kristen's chest and pounded in her ears. The scent of alcohol, sweat, and colognes and perfumes ensnared her nose. The blub was filled with such liveliness that it came Kristen a total rush and brought an excited grin to her face—the club certainly lived up to its name.

"Stop standing there like a dumbass, Kris! We gotta grab a table!" Meghan shouted over the music, grabbing Kristen's hand and yanking her towards where Charlotte and Zoey were waiting for them.

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How did he let Angela persuade him to come to such a place? The music was far too loud and the place was too crowded. Why couldn't he have just lied and told the artist that she had other things to do like Booth had done? He did not believe lying was a necessary thing to do, but couldn't he just have made an exception just this one time?

The floppy-haired genius Zack Addy tried to avoid situations—or places in this case—like this as much as possible. He could not dance as he had been told many times that he looked like a marionette in the wind, he did not enjoy drinking as he had a very low tolerance for alcohol, and most of all, he didn't like being around so many people at once as it made his pals sweat and him fidget. Thus, joining his mentor, Dr. Temperance Brennan, and his other two friends, Angela Montenegro and Jack Hodgins at the well-know club _Rush_ had been a very illogical choice. Nonetheless, there he was sitting at a black marble table in a black leathered booth with them.

"Zack, sweetie," Angela called to him, her voice loud so she could be heard over the music, sitting across from him. She was giving a comforting smile. "Relax. That's why I brought us here. To relax."

"I realize that." was all the young man said. He was aware that Angela wanted to take her friends and co-workers out to have a little fun compared to what they did at work with dead bodies. However, Zack _liked_ doing what he did for a living, that was fun to him.

"Then, _relax_." Angela told him.

"I agree," Brennan piped up. Being at a club made the lovely auburn-haired female genius out of her element too, but she understood normal social situations better than her assistant and was trying to enjoy herself. "You could possibly dance and get something to drink, Zack. Those activities may help you relax." she suggested.

"Or maybe you can talk to that girl that keeps looking over here at you." Hodgins smirked, nudging the other male with his elbow.

Zack furrowed his brows. "What girl that keeps looking over here at me?" he inquired confused.

Hodgins stared at him incredulously with his bright blue eyes. "You seriously haven't noticed?"

"No." Zack answered. Hadn't he made that clear when he had made his inquiry of what girl was looking at him?

"The pretty little blonde at the table over there." Angela reiterated, pointing to the said table.

Following the tanned woman's finger with his deep brown eyes, Zack gazed through the gyrating people to the table of four women, whose ages appeared to range from late teens to early twenties. There were two blondes—one of the blondes had longer and darker hair—one brunette, and one inky-haired girl with pink streaks. They were over at them, but when they had noticed Zack staring, they immediately looked away as if they hadn't been looking at all in the first place.

Zack peered back to Angela, Hodgins, and Brennan. "Which blonde? There are two of them." he pointed out.

Angela and Hodgins rolled their eyes in exasperation at how oblivious the graduate student was while Zack frowned at their expressions. Brennan calmly said though, "I think Hodgins and Ange meant the one with the longer hair and the darker skin tone in the crimson top."

At that, Zack peered back to the four women, who glancing over to their table again and focused on the said female his teacher had mentioned.

The said girl had to be at the most four years younger than himself with long, golden tresses that were done to have intricate waves and her bangs were pinned back from her face. Her complexion was light, but darker than his to have an even and natural tan. That allowed her big, sea green spheres to stand out, especially with the amount of make-up done on and around them. She had a small frame, but developed enough for someone her age range—she was quite short though. The flaxen haired was pretty, but one had to look twice and closely to see such.

Seeing him looking right at her, she blushed, her cheeks becoming rosier than the blush placed on them and quickly looked away. That made her friends scold her—or at least that's what it looked like from Zack's point of view, he wasn't sure though—and made her turn back to him and sheepishly smile with a small wave.

Zack blinked a bit astonished. He turned back to his friends. Angela and Hodgins were smirking while Brennan was just watching idly. "Am I…Am I supposed to do something?" Zack asked. So he had confirmed what the other three had said, but what did that mean?

"You talk to her obviously!" Hodgins answered with a deep sigh of frustration.

"But I don't how to initiate such. Would it not be a bit awkward to just walk over to her and her companions' table and try to make conversation?" Zack said. Hodgins shook his head, which made Zack frown again.

"Zack, just go over to the bar and wait for her to come over." Angela suggested with a sweet smile.

"I don't understand how that would help." he said with furrowed brows.

Brennan had the same expression. "How is that rational, Angela? How do you even know she'll go over to the bar as well to speak with him?" she queried.

"Just trust me on this one, okay?" Angela said to her best friend before switching her attention to Zack. "Go over to the bar and wait for her."

He made a face, but nodded. Shifting out of the boot, Zack stood and made his way through the groups of people on the dance floor and headed to the bar. All along the way, the forensic anthropologist was wondering to himself why he was even doing this. He didn't know this girl and yet, he had allowed Angela, Hodgins, and Brennan to convince him to wait for her to come to him to talk. What would that accomplish? The brunet was socially inept and according to Hodgins was inadequate when it came to women. So in other words, this was bound to not end well.

* * *

After being coaxed and pushed by an always hyperactive Charlotte, an annoyed Zoey, and an almost drunk Meghan, Kristen was maneuvering and sauntering through dancing men and woman to the club's bar to try and talk to a complete stranger.

She wanted to blame her friends for harassing her until she got up from the table, but, in reality, in had been Kristen's fault. She was the one who had spotted the young man at a table with his friends and had told the others that she thought he was cute.

That was all.

All she had said was that she thought he was cute and that instantly meant to Meghan that Kristen wanted to hook up with the stranger. That being, Meghan kept harassing, with the help of Charlotte and Zoey, Kristen until she caved in and took their advice to join him at the bar and speak to him.

It was a dumb idea, but honestly, what's the worst that could happen? The worst that would happen is that he'd reject her and she'd just return to her friends? No big deal. She was an actress and rejection came with the job, so she could handle it. On the other hand, the short girl still felt nervous to talk to the guy—that was natural, right?

Finally making her way through the crowd on the dance floor, Kristen had reached the bar and spotted the back of the floppy-haired brown-haired man. Her cheeks became heated, but she took a deep breath and smoothed the wrinkles of her shirt before approaching. She stood beside him, pretending that she hadn't noticed him at all and called to the bartender, "A glass of Bailey's Irish Cream, please!"

At the sound of her voice, the man beside her stiffened and glanced to her. When he did, Kristen finally acknowledged him and placed on her sweetest smile. "Hey." she greeted, leaning casually on her arms on top of the counter.

He looked around for a moment before looking back to her as if to make sure she was actually speaking him. Then, he tried his hardest to smile, but it came out awkward and shy. "Hello." he said just loud for her hear.

"So um," Kristen bit her glossed lips, trying to think of the next thing to say. _Your name would be nice, assmunch.,_ she scolded herself for being so stupid. "Kristen. Kr-Kristen Faust is my name." she choked out, trying to keep her grin cute. _Smooth, Kris, smooth._

"N-Nice to meet you, Kristen. My name is Z-Zack Addy." the brunet he introduced himself a tab hesitantly. Zack mentally cursed himself for stuttering. It was ridiculous to be nervous around the opposite sex, but he was. Why didn't he have the confidence that Agent Booth and Hodgins had with women?

"Cool, cool." Kristen nodded.

Awkward silence fell even when Kristen received her beverage. Kristen played with a strand of wavy hair and Zack cleared his throat.

Ultimately, after finishing her drink, Kristen gathered her confidence and turned to the stiff and blank faced male next to her. "You uh, want to dance?" she asked, jamming her thumb in the direction of the dance floor behind them.

Zack peered over his shoulder and made a slightly uncomfortable face. He looked down at Kristen. "I-I can't dance. I am t-told that I look like a marionette blowing in the wind." he informed her. That made a burst of laughter wrack through her. He stared at her puzzled—he hadn't made a joke, he was being serious. "I do not know what you find so funny." Zack admitted.

"Sorry," she apologized once her guffaws softened to giggles. She didn't sound very apologetic. "But trust me, most straight males don't know how to dance. It's not an uncommon thing. You just need the right teacher. Besides, that type of dancing doesn't need very much skill. I can show you." the light-haired girl offered.

"I don't think--" Zack began uneasily, but Kristen cut him off by grabbing his bigger and lighter hand and shouting happily, "You'll have fun, I promise!" She sounded more confident than she felt.

He didn't believe he would, but he didn't resist as she pulled him onto the dance floor, pushing their way through rhythmically moving people. Once Kristen had found a spot where there was just enough room for them, she faced Zack, who was watching her intently and cautiously.

His body went rigid when she placed his hands on one of hips—his hands were warmer than she had suspected, especially since hers were always cold—and around her lower back and placed one of her knees between both of his so her hips could very slightly press against his. Then, she wrapped one arm around his shoulders and placed her other hand on his forearm. Zack's face became flushed yet, he didn't remove the girl from her, especially when she flashed him a jovial beam. He tried to smile back, but couldn't exactly, unnerved by the woman's close proximity.

"Now, don't worry, Zack. I'll lead first. Just follow the movements of my hips with yours." Kristen instructed, gazing up at him—he was a good head taller than she even with her three inch heels. "Understand?"

Swallowing the thick lump in his throat, Zack nodded numbly. It sounded simple enough and Kristen was going to guide him through it, but he still wasn't entirely sure.

Kristen began moving side to side and Zack attempted to follow. They weren't following the rhythm of the music since Kristen was teaching Zack how to "grind" and that made them look clumsy and stiff. They'd trip every now and then and accidentally step on each other's feet, which Zack would apologize to and Kristen would shake her and say she was just as much at fault since she was a huge klutz. This ungraceful and uncoordinated act went on for a while—for a few songs actually—and the young man was going to tell his dance partner that this whole thing was futile, but stopped when he realized that he was actually starting to get it.

Zack was beginning to follow and move with Kristen. They were moving as one with not as many screw-ups. Kristen must've noticed because she picked up the pace and started to gyrate to the beat of the techno music; Zack kept up with her just as much as possible, mostly because he encouraged by the approving smile that graced the blonde's face. He was even heartened enough to start leading, which she permitted.

And that was how things went for a while. Neither said a word, not knowing what to say nor wanting to distract themselves from the task at hand in case it might mess up—Zack was more afraid of that than Kristen. Zack just tightened his grip around her, pulling her closer—at least as much as he dared to since he had to remind himself she was still basically a stranger. And Kristen complied by gently moving her hand up and down his arm (they were a bit shaky), playing with the strays hair on the back of his head and rested her forehead on his shoulder. Such closeness made the heat in the club increase for the two, their breaths coming out raggedly and a thin sheet of sweat form on their bodies, but they just kept dancing like everyone else.

Sadly, all good things must come to an end…

Someone tapped on Kristen's shoulder causing her to pull away from Zack and for the two of them to stop dancing. Kristen turned to see Zoey standing there with a look of aggravation on her face.

"Kris, we've got a situation." Zoey announced grouchily. Her greenish golden eyes briefly looked to Zack. "What's up, man?" she gave him a curt nod.

"The ceiling." he said without hesitant and an emotionless expression.

Zoey and Kristen looked at him oddly before Kristen turned to her friend. "What's going on, Zo?"

"We gotta bounce. Meghan is piss drunk and she's starting to hit on poles." explained Zoey.

Kristen arched a brow, a look of skepticism on her face. She sighed, shaking her head. "Okay." Her light eyes adverted to Zack, who was staring at them blankly. "Sorry, Zack. I have to go. It was really nice meeting you." she said, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.

The blonde completely stepped away from and started to follow Zoey through the crowd. Zack's hand shot out and grabbed her hand before she disappeared amongst the bodies. Stopping, she curiously looked back at him.

"…Is th-there a method for m-me to contact you?" Zack blurted, retreating his hand quickly to his side.

"Oh!" Kristen mentally hit herself.

How could she have been so stupid? She couldn't believe she was just going to leave without trying to contact him or for him to contact her, so they could hang out more—they seemed to enjoy each other presences after all even though very few words were exchanged.

"Do you have a cell?" she asked.

When he nodded, she asked if he could give it to her. Zack handed it over and Kristen punched in her number before saving it in the mobile's memory. She handed it back to him with a big grin. "Call me." With that, Kristen stood on her tippy-toes, kissed his cheek, and turned on her heels to follow Zoey, Charlotte, and Meghan out of the club.

Zack watched her until she was completely gone blinking. His puppy dog brown eyes looked down at Kristen's number in his phone. A very small smile tugged at his lips.

Maybe it was a good thing he had come to _Rush_ tonight…


	2. Meet Old and New

_Holy fudge nuggets! Five reviews and only on the first chapter! Yays! Thank you to those who reviewed, favored the story, and are watching it--I really appreciate it, I really do. Anyway, here's another chapter for you all. I don't particularly like as it isn't very smooth, but I couldn't of doing this chapter any other way. It's long, so maybe that'll make up for it's suckiness. I would've gotten this chapter out sooner, but was doing something funky and wouldn't let me upload it, but from what I heard from the other Zack/OC stories I read, I wasn't the only one who had that problem. Either way, everything is okay now. So I hope you enjoy. Please, review!_

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**Chapter Two: Meet Old and New**

**She hadn't heard **the end of it and she still hadn't. When Cheryl found out where Kristen had went three nights ago from Paul—he caved under the pressure that was her mother—Cheryl hit the fan and chewed Kristen out to no end. Like the girl had predicted, her guardian took her cell phone away, took her computer away, and forbade the blonde from driving her precious baby blue Volkswagen Beetle convertible.

Kristen Faust was twenty-one-years-old—an adult, who could drink—and she was still being treated like a disobedient child. It was ridiculous, but Kristen couldn't argue. Her foster parent was crazy, psychotic, but she knew Cheryl cared deep down…_really_ deep down.

Or at least that's what Kristen kept telling herself.

Either way, because Cheryl had grounded her foster daughter taking away her only way of communication, Kristen didn't know if that cute—awkward, but cute—guy from the club had called her or not. He probably thought she was stuck-up bitch, who had just been toying with his emotions. Sure, the fact that she had landed the part for the TV show she had auditioned for the morning after Meghan's bachelorette party and that today Meghan and Isaac were getting married today—later tonight—brightened her mood. However, Kristen still felt bad even though she was probably never going to Zack ever again. Not to mention, the fact that Cheryl kept reprimanding her didn't make the young woman feel any better.

Even now, on the drive to the Jeffersonian to meet Dr. Temperance Brennan at the Jeffersonian, Cheryl was scolding Kristen from the passenger seat of Paul's sleek black BMV.

They were going to the Jeffersonian to meet with Dr. Temperance Brennan because her and her works had inspired the TV show that Kristen was going to be on, along with her character. That being, the producer of the show had suggested that Kristen meet with Dr. Brennan and study her, so Kristen could understand her character and her character's job better to which Kristen fully agreed—mostly because Dr. Brennan's job was so fascinating and she loved her books. Unfortunately, agreeing to such gave Cheryl even more incentive to scold Kristen because she thought it was ridiculous that _they_ had to go to_ her_—Cheryl thought that Dr. Brennan should've be so honored that a TV show was inspired by her books that she should've gone to them at the studio instead.

As Cheryl, who acted a lot less angelic than she looked with her platinum blonde locks and azure-hued eyes, ran her mouth about Kristen's disobedience and lying and how inconsiderate Dr. Brennan was, Kristen just sighed deeply in the back seat and gazed out the car's window in boredom.

In the rearview mirror, her kind and boyishly-looking agent, Paul Kinkler, gave her his most comforting expression while mouthing "I'm sorry" to her—Cheryl didn't notice as she was too busy ranting. Kristen just shrugged signaling that it was no big deal, she was use to it all by now, which she was. Besides, she knew that love made you do stupid things that one couldn't control and that happened to Paul.

"And there's this young man that keeps calling you!" Cheryl cried angrily, catching Kristen's attention.

Kristen's eyebrow arched. "_What_ young man?" she asked. _Does she mean Zack? _

"I don't remember his name." her mother scoffed with a roll of her eyes. "Something Addy. Jack, maybe? Mack, I don't know."

"Zack?" Kristen said.

"Yeah, that was it." Cheryl nodded. "He called saying that you told him to and that you two met at the club you had snuck off to. He has called at least three times already."

"Oh…" the youngest person in the moving vehicle said softly. The actress didn't know whether to be happy or not that Zack had called her and more than once. That was what she had wanted, but since her cell had been confiscated by Cheryl, she hadn't been able to answer back. Zack probably hated her now, especially with Cheryl rudely answering the calls.

"What happen to Ren? I thought you two were still dating." chimed in Paul from the driver's seat.

Kristen shot him look. The dirty-blond male pursed his lips realizing he had slipped up again, mentioning something the Kristen had told him to not mention in front of her mother. Nonetheless, it was out and Cheryl now knew.

"That's right. What had happened to that boy? I thought you two were madly in love." she pointed out, looking back at her daughter with narrowed eyes.

Inwardly groaning, Kristen rested her head against the tinted window next to her—she officially wanted to kill Paul, screw him and his lovesickness. "Stuff happened. We broke up." she confessed, being as vague as possible.

"That's not what he keeps telling me when he calls, which is often, I might add." Cheryl argued.

_That's because he's a delusional, egotistical prick.,_ Kristen thought to herself, but said aloud dryly, "We're working through it. We may get back together." _When Hell freezes over and pigs fly._

"You better. I set you two up. Ren is perfect." Cheryl huffed, sitting back in her seat and facing forward.

Kristen rolled her green orbs and looked at Paul sharply, who mouthed another apology her way. She just shook her head and slouched in her seat.

The rest of the ride through D.C. to the Jeffersonian was uneventful. No one said anything else, which Kristen was more than thankful for.

Eventually, Paul, Cheryl, and Kristen arrived at the museum and parked. In a group, with Kristen lagging behind a little to look at all of the historical items showcased, the three of them headed to the Medico-Legal Lab portion to speak with Dr. Brennan as that was where she worked for her occupation as a forensic anthropologist.

Once they reached the Medico-Legal Lab, they showed their Visitor Passes to the guards to be allowed entry. They stepped inside the large place and instantly, Kristen's breath was taken away—like the first time she had been to Broadway in NYC.

The Medico-Legal Lab was so vast with so many people walking about in blue lab coats. It kind of smelled like a hospital being of lemons and disinfectant, which the blonde hated, but there was another scent amongst the mix that made her love it instead. It had a musky and slightly warm smell to it, too—smells that she couldn't really describe. The Lab was very clean and pristine being of mostly white and metal. Beeps, chattering, bubbling, and all those other sounds you'd suspect to hear in a lab, Kristen heard and made her heart flutter and enthrallment build up in her chest. She liked—no—loved it. She wasn't sure why, but she did. It had officially become one of her Top 5 places to be along with Broadway, New Hampshire, Hawaii, and Las Vegas—Philly had been pushed to sixth place.

"Kristen, you stay here while we go talk to this woman." Cheryl told her foster child.

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Kristen answered distractedly as her wide ocean green eyes looked about the environment around her.

Cheryl scowled recognizing that look. "Don't. Touch. Anything. Understand?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay."

"_Kristen,_"

"I understand."

"Good." Cheryl's eyes narrowed. "Let's go, Paul."

"Yes, Cheryl." Paul said obediently, following the older and taller blonde. "See you in a few minutes, Kris."

"'Kay." she said dismissively—she was still mad at him.

The two adults left leaving the young woman alone. Being as curious and adventurous as she was that was a very bad thing to do, especially since she wasn't going to keep her words. Kristen began to explore to get a better feel on the lab; if she was going to be studying Dr. Brennan in order to understand her character than she was going to have to get use to being where the brilliant anthropologist worked.

Kristen wandered taking in everything that surrounded her. It was a lot bigger than at first glance. Workers would look at her oddly and/or quizzically as she passed by with an expression of a kid in a candy store.

The short girl was so in awe of the place that she wasn't particularly watching where she was going. And her being a huge klutz just made in worse as she accidentally tripped over her Vans' shoelaces causing her to tumble to the floor. Thankfully, Kristen was so use to falling that her fall barely hurt at all. That didn't make it any less embarrassing, though.

Flushed in her face, she avoided eye-contact with anyone that walked by and got to her feet brushing off her black skinny jeans and white V-neck Y-shirt beneath her bright yellow LMFAO hoodie. _Good job, Kris. You're as graceful as a drunk swan._

"Only you, Kris, would trip over your own feet." chuckled a hearty and deep male's voice from behind her.

Jumping, startled, Kristen whipped her fair head around. She squinted her eyes—having "forgotten" her glasses today—only for them to widen at whom was standing them with an amused smirk and his muscular arms crossed.

"Seeley?" she asked hesitantly.

The tall short-haired brunet said gruffly, "Don't call me Seeley, Kristen."

She deadpanned. _Yeah, that's him all right._ "What are you doing here? I thought you worked for the FBI. This place doesn't seem like you're kinda place." the younger person questioned with interest.

"It's not," Special Agent Seeley Booth made a face. "But the people here work on murder cases for the bureau and that includes my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan." he admitted.

"You work with Dr. Brennan?" Kristen cocked her head to the side.

"Mmhm," He nodded and smirked a little. "And apparently you'll be hanging about here with us for a while or so that's what your mother told me before kicking me out of Bone's office."

"Bones?" Her brows furrowed.

"Dr. Brennan."

"Oh… Wait, you left Dr. Brennan _alone_ with Cheryl? Are you out of your mind?"

Booth chortled. "Relax. Paul is there."

"That's not reassuring…at all." Paul couldn't harm a fly.

"Dr. Brennan can handle herself, trust me."

"I hope so. You know how Cheryl can be."

"You mean shrew and overbearing?" the ex-sniper joked lightly—he was being partially serious, remembering how Kristen's foster mother was when they first met.

"That's the nice way of putting it, but yeah." the actress smiled.

Booth laughed once more before opening his arms. "Well? Am I going to get a hug or not?"

Rolling her eyes, Kristen shook her head, but with a smile. "Of course." She stepped up to him—her height reaching his chest—and enveloped him in a hug. A hug that he willingly returned since the two hadn't seen one since Kristen lived in New York five years ago.

"Good to see you again, Goldilocks." Booth patted her back.

She made a face into his broad chest at the old and stupid nickname he had bestowed her yet, happily said in reply, "You too, Seeley."

* * *

"Did that chick ever call you back?" was the cury-haired bug and slime specialist, Jack Hodgins. His question was directed to his best friend as he fiddled with the computer in front of him.

Zack, who was hovering over a body on the autopsy table like usual, raised his russet optics to the older, but shorter male. "Baby chickens cannot call someone let alone have access to a cellular phone." the genius pointed out calmly.

Hodgins deadpanned and rolled his light eyes. _Why do I even try to speak anything but his native alien tongue?,_ the bearded male thought to himself. He corrected himself, "I meant the girl from the club the other night."

"Are you speaking of Kristen?" Zack asked. He felt a small pang of disappointment in his chest, but he had quickly brushed the sensation away as soon as it came knowing perfectly well such a thing was illogical.

"Yeah, her."

"What about her?"

"Did she ever call you back?"

"No, she did not." Zack responded emotionlessly returning his focused attention to the corpse before him.

"Dude, that blows." Hodgins frowned a little. "She did give you her number, right?"

"Yes. She placed the required seven digits for a telephone number in my phone before she left."

"No," Hodgins shook his head, sighing in exasperation. "I mean, was it really _her_ number? She didn't give you a fake one?"

"Why would someone do a thing like that?" queried Zack confused.

"Girls do that."

"Why?"

"…Never mind. Just tell me who answered the phone when you called."

"An austere woman named Cheryl Quinn. She claims she is Kristen's mother."

"_Oooh._ That's even worse."

"I don't understand." Zack stated with creased eyebrows.

"Well, Kristen either got in trouble for some reason and got her phone taken away or Kristen gave you her mother's number as her way of blowing you off." explained Hodgins, leaning back casually in his wheelie chair.

"Only the first seems logical." Or was he just hoping that it was the first choice?

"That doesn't make the latter any less possible."

Zack frowned. "…Why would she give me a fake phone number if she did not want me to call?"

Hodgins opened his mouth to answer to tell Zack he was probably a bad dancer or said something strange like he always did, but stopped short when his noticed two familiar figures on the floor of the Medico-Legal Lab cheerfully talking. He immediately recognized one of the figures as Booth from his tall and masculine appearance. And if he was seeing right, the other figure was a short, blonde girl that had to be Kristen Faust—the actress that Zack had danced with at _Rush_ three nights ago.

"Dude, is that her?" Hodgins asked aloud, his eyes still transfixed on Kristen and Booth talking as if they had know each other for years—how was that possible?

"You're saying "dude" a lot today and "her" who?" Zack said quizzically.

"Kristen! The girl from the club!" exclaimed Hodgins, pointing to Booth and Kristen.

Arching a brow, the brunet boy-man peered over his shoulder only for his eyebrows to shoot up with a mild surprise. Kristen really was here, but why? And why did she seem so friendly with Agent Booth?

Zack quickly glanced back to his companion/co-worker. "What do I do?" he asked a bit frantically—he hadn't expected her to just show up at his job.

"Go over to her, I guess. Ask her what's up?" Hodgins shrugged—he surprised himself.

"I think Kristen is intelligent enough to know the ceiling is up."

"Oh, for the love of--!" the other male groaned. "Go and talk to her! Ask her why she isn't answering your calls!"

"Oh, right." the taller man nodded stiffly.

He tore away from his work and started over towards Booth and Kristen. His palms began to dampen as he approached. Why was he nervous? He had only met the woman once and they had barely exchanged many words. Feeling anxious was irrational, especially when Zack was just going to ask Kristen a simple question. Why did he not have the safe confidence as Booth and Hodgins had with the opposite sex?

Once Zack reached Booth and Kristen, who seemed very engrossed in their conversation, Zack swallowed the lump in his throat and apprehensively cleared iy—he was a bit wary to interrupt them, especially since Booth was one of them.

Stopping midsentence, Booth and Kristen turned their dark and light eyes to the young genius standing there awkwardly. The oldest person there gave Zack an annoyed expression for interrupting—and a bit because Booth never really liked the other brunet. On the other hand, the youngest person amongst the three had a look of surprise and recognition.

"What do you want, Squinty?" asked Booth gruffly.

"Zack, is that you?" questioned Kristen in shock—what in the world was he doing in a place like this?

"I couldn't be anyone else." he said.

Booth's eyebrows furrowed and glanced between the two young people. "You two _know_ each other?" he inquired, pointing between them.

"Uh, y-yeah. Kinda." Kristen replied cautiously, not liking the tone in her old friend's voice—she also still didn't know how to respond to Zack standing there.

"We met at a club three nights ago." Zack explained then, turned to the blonde girl. He looked calm, but really he was just as unnerved as Kristen. "You never called me back, Kristen."

"Um…" She bit her lip.

Kristen just chewed her lip harder when she noticed Booth's chocolate orbs narrowed suspiciously. "Wait," he began and looked to Zack, who became stiffer than he already was. "What were _you_ doing in a club?" That was the last place Zack would be at. Then, Booth peered to Kristen, who tried to innocently smile. "And why was _he_ calling _you_?" he hissed a little, not liking the idea at all.

"Um…y-you see, Seeley? Uh…" Kristen started to explain, but was stumbling over her words. She looked helplessly to Zack, but he just stood there looking confused as he did not get her signal.

Fortunately, Cheryl, Paul, a lovely auburn-haired woman with icy blue eyes, a gorgeous tan woman with long, dark hair, and tall dark man with a beard and mustache approached the group cutting Booth off before he could demand for answers further.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. Addy, Agent Booth, and Miss. Faust, but we have important business to take care of." the dark man said with a very deep voice. "Can you please all gather on the lab platform so I can explain?"

Not needing to be told twice, everyone joined a curly-haired and bearded man on the platform. The workers of the Jeffersonian, including Booth, stood on one side of an autopsy table where a pile of bones laid, and the actress with her mother and agent stood on the other side of it.

"Everyone, Miss. Kristen Faust will be coming here every soon often when she does not have college classes to study Dr. Brennan for her latest role in a TV show that has been created based on Dr. Brennan works and books. So please be on your best behavior when Miss. Faust is around." the tall dark man announced aloud.

Everyone nodded. Though, if Kristen knew any better most of the people on the Jeffersonian team didn't seem pleased.

Then, the tall dark man made introductions. "I'm Dr. Goodman, I'm the administrator." he indicated to himself before gesturing to Kristen, Cheryl and Paul. "This is Kristen Faust, the actress who will be coming here every so often. Besides her is her mother, Cheryl Quinn and next to Miss. Quinn is Miss. Faust's agent Paul Kinkler." Next, Dr. Goodman motioned to those of the Jeffersonian. "And this is the forensics team, Dr. Jack Hodgins," The curly-haired man. "Zack Addy, Angela Montenegro," The beautiful woman with the olive complexion. "Dr. Temperance Brennan," The auburn-haired woman with bright and keen eyes. "And this is Special FBI Agent Seeley Booth."

"Nice to meet you all." Kristen said politely. Paul nodded with a grin and Cheryl just scoffed with her arms crossed.

Kristen looked at all the faces of those before her. The majority of them seemed warm and inviting, especially Angela. However, the actress felt anxious and very out of place. She glanced to Zack only to inwardly frown when he wouldn't meet her gaze.

Maybe this whole situation wasn't such a good thing after all, big role or not…

* * *

"Come on, Kris," started Zoey, adorned in the same ugly orange bridesmaid dress as Kristen. Zoey, Kristen, Isaac and Austen were sitting in a circle at the bride and groom's table at the wedding reception while Charlotte and Meghan were on the dance floor dancing to "Girls Just Want to Have Fun". The four at the table were discussing Kristen's meet and greet with those at the Jeffersonian, especially Zack. "You're being over-dramatic. I'm sure that Zack doesn't hate you." Zoey pointed out, tugging irritably at the big orange boy in her dark tresses.

"How can you be sure? Wouldn't you be if someone told you to call, but you never answered back?" Kristen sighed, scratching her leg because the dresses skirt was made of a very itchy material—she had a feeling Meghan choose such intolerable dresses purposely, so she'd look even more elegant than she already did for her wedding.

"Not really. It happens all the time," shrugged Zoey carelessly. "Yet if someone told me to call and their mother who is just like the Fuhrer answered the phone when I called, I would be fuckin' pissed." she stated with a dramatic wave of her white hand.

"Thankfully, no is like the Fuhrer—except for Hitler himself and Stalin." Isaac joked.

Isaac Manson was Meghan's new husband and was a very handsome young man. He was the oldest of the group, but acted the youngest as he was always making jokes and goofing around. His dark brown hair—almost black—was wavy and framed his light face to just shy of his shoulders. Isaac's eyes were a golden hue and his charming smile—always causing cute dimples in his cheeks—would always reach them. Isaac was a very happy person and fun to be around. He just wasn't good in serious situations.

Kristen deadpanned. "You two help a lot." she grumbled. They just made her feel even worse.

"Why do you even care what he thinks about you, Kris?" Austen asked curiously.

Austen Bloom was Kristen roommate and best friend without question. Kristen had been friends with the talented musician for six years having gone to the same art high school together in NYC. Since they were roommates at the college they attended now, obviously they went to the same college, too. Austen had chestnut brown cropped hair with blonde highlights. His eyes were a pleasant caramel color and held such warmth and wisdom. Kristen went to the scrawny, tan man often for advice.

"I don't know. It just bothers me." Kristen shrugged, crossing her legs.

Austen arched a brow then, smirked playfully. "Maybe you have a crush on him."

"That'd make sense considering." Zoey concurred dryly. Isaac nodded in agreement.

"What?!" Kristen shrieked, her voice raising an octave as her cheeks burned. She glared. "Don't be ridiculous, Austen! We've only met twice and each time we've barely spoken a few words to each other! That's hardly enough time for me to develop any kind of feelings towards him!" she spat.

"Then, why are you getting so upset?"

"How the hell should I know?"

"You're an actress. Shouldn't you know how you feel?" Isaac said, placing his ankle on his other knee.

"It doesn't work like that." Kristen retorted, taking her hair down from its complicated hairstyle, so it went past to her shoulders to the middle of her back in waves as the pins had caused it.

"Maybe it's like love at first sight and that's why you're so bugged by what he thinks of you!" Austen gushed beaming. "Like Max and I!" Kristen and Isaac looked at the best man strangely.

"Could you be any more gay?" teased Zoey with a bored expression.

"You're gay too, Zo." Isaac, Kristen, and Austen said to her at the same time.

"And yet I'm more of a man than either of you two dumbasses." Zoey countered, pointing to Isaac and Austen, who glowered at her.

Kristen couldn't help but laugh. Sure, her problem wasn't solved, but she did feel better. No matter what, her friends managed to make her laugh.

Shaking her head, the rose to her feet, stumbling a bit because of the heels she had been forced to wear. "Come on, guys. Let's go dance." she said.

Not arguing to the suggestion, Zoey, Austin, and Isaac followed their friend onto the dance floor. They joined Charlotte and Meghan as the song "Cupid Shuffle" came on.


	3. First Case

_Here's chapter three, everyone! It's shorter than the first two, but I didn't want to take too much away from the next chapter. Anyway, thanks to those who reviewed, favored, and watched this story so far--thank you very much, keep it up, please. I hope you enjoy and if you do, PLEASE REVIEW! Thankies. Btw: I'm just an actrees/writer and science/math have never been my strong suits so if I get anything wrong with any of the forensics-type stuff please telling. I'm just basing everything I know on research and from the show itself._

_**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Bones or it's characters. I just own this case, Kristen, Zoey, Austen, Isaac, Meghan, Charlotte, Cheryl, Paul, and any other OC I have created._

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**Chapter Three: First Case**

**Being at the **Jeffersonian and hanging with the people there after class—production for the TV show hadn't started since they were in the middle of casting—were a huge thrill for Kristen. She could never have such an occupation as the actress had never—and still wasn't good—at anything science and math related; she was more of a history, art, and English person.

However, over the few days the blonde would visit the Medico-Legal Lab, she still felt like she was out of place, like she didn't really belong. Don't get her wrong, the people who worked there seemed nice enough, but…_still._

Dr. Brennan didn't really seem to care about Kristen being around as long she didn't get in the way. Kristen tried to stay in the background and ask only appropriate questions at the appropriate time. Dr. Brennan was very bright and very skilled at her job, but she seemed a bit cold and maybe even a little intimidating, more reasons Kristen stayed as quiet as possible.

Dr. Goodman was rarely around, so Kristen didn't know him well. He seemed very business-oriented though.

Hodgins, at first, didn't seem pleased by Kristen presence. Over time, she guessed she grew on him as they talked much more than they went they first got acquainted. He seemed like a really good guy. A big brother type who liked to pull pranks, makes jokes, and was very sarcastic. Like a combination of Isaac and Zoey—though, they weren't paranoid theorists like Hodgins. Nonetheless, Kristen and Hodgins weren't best friends or anything. They were just on slightly good terms—she had only been around for little under a week.

Angela was probably the most welcoming and warmest person in the Jeffersonian. Kristen and Angela clicked instantly, but that was most likely because they had artistic souls and also because they were the only people who weren't geniuses in the group—other than Booth. They talked about various things, but mostly art, plays, music, and such. She was very sweet like Charlotte. Kristen hung out with the artist more than anyone else when she wasn't studying Dr. Brennan.

Booth was…well Booth. Kristen and he were already friends from a while ago. She hung out with him, too when he was looming about the lab. They'd catch up on old times mostly.

And then there was Zack. Zack was…Kristen couldn't describe him, but that only because they didn't really talk—sometimes not at all. By the second day, she had been at the Jeff, Kristen knew or at least felt that he was doing anything he could to avoid her. He'd say as little as possible, wouldn't stay around her for very long, and wouldn't ever make eye-contact with her. It bothered her and she didn't know why. Maybe because she had convinced herself that he hated her for unintentionally blowing him off and Kristen wasn't use to people hating her at least not to her face. The young woman had only learned things from Angela and Hodgins about Zack, but she didn't learn much. All she had learned was that he was a genius and was kind of socially awkward—Kristen got that much from how he acted at the club. He was basically the male version of Dr. Brennan.

Otherwise, Kristen liked the Jeffersonian. She was a bit shy around the others—like she was around most people she didn't know very well. But, she had hopes they'd become friends eventually.

Anyway, since Kristen was still not allowed to drive her car—she had another two days on her punishment—Booth had offered to give her a ride to the Jeff after her classes. Today was no exception. However, today the atmosphere in the SUV as they drove away from Kristen's college was unusually tense. And at first, she had thought it was because the FBI had recently found a body dumped in a couple's pond in their backyard in Maryland and Booth wasn't happy that she was tagging along—she had to do a lot of persuading to be permitted such. Yet, as it would seem, that wasn't the case, at least not entirely.

Not liking Booth being so quiet, especially since he always seemed so happy to see her and was more than willing to strike up a conversation, Kristen decided to confront the dark-haired man about his silence. "Is…something wrong, Seeley?" she asked softly from the passenger seat.

He said nothing for a moment, his eyes focused on the road and then, he spoke gravely, "When were you planning on telling me, Kristen?"

"Tell you what?" Her brows furrowed.

"You know what." His dark eyes glanced to her briefly with a sharp look.

The blonde ran through all things she had done since she started visiting the Jeffersonian and occasionally the bureau. She jumped thinking of the one thing that would make Booth made at her. "Is this about the Marshmallow Peep Duel Hodgins and I held the other day in the bureau's microwave? Cuz we tried cleaning that up as best as possible, but those things are mad sticky when melted and blown up."

"That was you two?!" Booth exclaimed furiously, looking at her aghast. He almost swerved for a minute.

Kristen bit her lip and tugged at a strand of her straightened hair, looking away. "_Nooooo_." she sang innocently.

Booth groaned. "That's not what I was talking about, but we're going to get to that afterwards." he grumbled with a deep sigh of frustration. He had missed the girl sitting next to him, but he did not miss her antics—she was twenty-one wasn't she?

"Oh…" She blanched a little—wasn't she in enough trouble? Hesitantly, she inquired, "Then…what are you talking about?"

"Why didn't tell me Sarah died?"

Kristen went rigid. Tugging her hair hard, twirling it around her finger, her green eyes looked out the window. "…Oh…"

"Why didn't you tell me?" he repeated, his voice softer noticing her solemn tone and face.

"It's not exactly something you bring up in an everyday conversation." Kristen gazed to him, her face abnormally emotional. "How did you even know she died in the first place?"

Booth made a face, a bit reluctant to tell her the truth knowing she wouldn't be too pleased with it. "…I looked at your file."

"You did _what_?" Kristen seethed. Booth said nothing, which just made her even madder. "_Seeley_!" she shrilled.

"I'm sorry. I was curious as to what you have been up to these past few years."

"You could've just asked!"

"You wouldn't have told me anything, just like you didn't tell me Sarah died! You don't tell anyone anything, Kris!"

"That's no excuse to invade my privacy like that!"

"_Kristen,_"

"_No_! I can't believe you, Seeley!"

"You're acting like a child."

"I have every right to!"

Booth sighed deeply. He had a feeling starting that conversation would come and bite him in the ass if he brought it up. The agent remembered that Kristen was normally a quiet and calm person, but when sensitive subjects, especially about her personal life—a thing she rarely told people about—she'd get very defensive and snap like a wounded animal. He had just wished that after five years, she would have grown out of it—obviously not.

The rest of the ride was quiet as it had been when it began yet, now the tension had thickened greatly. Booth kept his eyes on the road, his hands tight on the steering wheel and Kristen slouched grumpily in her seat with her arms crossed over her chest as she glowered at the window.

When they arrived at the Jeffersonian and Booth parked out front, he stiffly told Kristen to get Brennan and Zack. She said nothing, got out of the car, and trudged up to the institute. He just watched her go with a deep frown.

Eventually, Kristen returned with Brennan and Zack, who was lugging a yellow case of equipment. They all loaded into the SUV with the older people in the front and the young in the back. Booth started the engine and pulled away from the Jeffersonian.

For a while, no one said anything, which was unusually. Usually, Kristen and Booth would be talking, encouraging Brennan and Zack to join the conversation. That being, when the two hadn't said a word in the past fifteen minutes, Brennan figured something was wrong—Zack didn't really notice all that much.

"Things seem quite…tense." Brennan piped up quizzically. She glanced between the other female and her partner. "Are you two fighting or something of that nature?"

"No," was Booth's reply.

"Yes," was Kristen's.

Brennan furrowed her brows and looked to Zack, who looked just as lost as she was. Nevertheless, neither said anything else.

It was going to be a long car ride to Maryland…

* * *

The little suburban Maryland neighborhood, especially the home of where the body was found, was in chaos. Neighbors were gathered at the one house with horrified and interested faces. Two FBI trucks, along with Booth's SUV, had parked in front of the small, but pleasant light blue house with a white picket fence—stereotypical home. Kristen didn't know whether to be fascinated by the sight or empathetic as she followed Zack, Booth, and Brennan around the house to the back of it—was she going to feel that way when she saw the body?

Reaching the back of the house, Kristen couldn't help, but think the tiny garden and pond that was there was quite lovely. It probably would've looked nicer without the horrified owners, the FBI forensics roaming about the pond, and the fact that there had been a body found in said pond, which had now been pulled out carefully.

Brennan immediately went into forensic anthropologist mode—well, more than she already was—and yanked on latex gloves while strolling up to the pond. She began giving orders to Zack, who was following closely behind her, "Zack, take stills then, move onto video before temperature and samples of the pond."

"Right away, Dr. Brennan." Zack nodded.

Perking up at the mentioning of taking pictures, Kristen jogged up to Brennan and Zack—also to get away from Booth, who was talking to the couple, since she was still mad at him. "Can I take the pictures and video?" she asked Brennan, trying not to show excitement in such a grave situation.

Brennan and Zack looked to her skeptically. Noticing those looks, Kristen elaborated, "I'm being serious. If I take the pictures and video, you two will be able to focus more intently and we can get the body to the Jeff quicker. You won't regret it, I promise. I'll take really good pictures and video. You won't regret it."

They exchanged looks for a moment. Brennan just sighed and nodded, motioning Zack to hand over the camera to Kristen. He looked reluctant and hesitant, but did as he mentor instructed. Kristen's eyes twinkled happily yet, her face remained calm. "Please, be careful with it. It's very expensive." he told her firmly.

"I know, I know. Nikon D90 Digital SLRs are always expensive." Kristen said dismissively, cradling the heavy, black in her hands—after placing the strap over her head—as if it was a baby.

The male genius was about to ask how she knew what kind of camera was and how she knew it was expensive, but couldn't as the blonde was already taking pictures of the corpse on the blue tarp. Not to mention, the older and much taller female had called to him again. Not needing to be told again, Zack got to work and knelt by the pond to take its temperature and take samples from it. Booth joined the three of them soon after, only looking at Kristen oddly briefly.

"So what do we got, Bones?" Booth asked, crossing his arms.

"Don't call me "Bones"." Brennan retorted, looking back and up at him over her shoulder from her kneeling position. Her keen orbs returned the gangly and slimy body before them. "Male, in his early teens, very tall for his age, around 5'8", and liked playing basketball." she announced confidently, calmly.

Kristen blinked, her attention broken from taking pictures to stare astounded by the woman. _That's…so cool. She didn't even have to do anything, barely even touched the body and she knows his age range, gender, height, and what his favorite sport was._, she thought. She turned to Zack, who was working beside her. "How can she tell all that?" the young woman asked the brunet man.

He stiffened and glanced to her, but quickly looked away. Zack cleared his throat awkwardly and explained, "We can tell the sex from the pelvis bone. A male's pelvis is heavier and thicker than female's. Males have more predominant bone markings, their pubic arch is more v-shaped, and the pelvic inlet is valentine-shaped while the outlet is smaller than females'." He pointed to each part of the pelvis he was mentioning. "And since the pelvis isn't completely developed that shows that he has just began puberty. As for the favoritism of the sport, that's told by the wears in the wrist bones and most of the legs." he told her impassively.

"Wow. That's really impressive." breathed Kristen. She was now not just amazed by Dr. B, but by Zack as well—no wonder he was her assistant. However, there was that twinge of disappointment that Zack still wouldn't make eye-contact with her and his body went taut whenever she spoke to him—at least he said more than a couple of words to her.

"Is it murder?" Booth queried.

Brennan didn't reply at first, examining the body one more time in case she missed anything. Apparently, she had had she looked at the inside of the mouth and inside of the nose. She frowned a little, especially when the brunette reached into the throat and pulled out the white object she had spotted in the throat. It was a white feather.

She showed it to the others. "The victim was asphyxiated and with whatever murder weapon this came from." she stated, gingerly holding the feather between her gloved index and thumb.

Her partner's lip formed a straight line. "Murder it is."

Kristen didn't want to be excited, but inside she was. This was going to be her first real case.


	4. Beetles, Identities, and Sharing

_New chapter! I mean, I know I just released a chapter yesterday and haven't recieved any reviews for it--people are liking this so far, right?--but I really want to get this story out. Thus, here's another segment. I hope you all enjoy. There's a little Kristen interaction with Zack, Angela, Hodgins, and Booth--I'll try to get some interaction with Bones, too soon--and some insight to Kristen's personality and past. So please enjoy. If ya do, please REVIEW! Thankies!_

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**Chapter Four: Beetles, Identities, and Sharing… Oh, My!**

**The pond** slimed and gangly body was taken back to the Jeffersonian and that's where the real work began. Because of how much time Kristen had spent with the squints—a word she had learned from Booth—in the past week, she learned they had to identify the victim before they had to figure anything else out. And apparently it was a very intricate process, which she found more than fascinating.

First, Hodgins took whatever particulates he could from the body, clothes, and whatever else was given to him. Next, they stripped the body of all its flesh—she didn't know how that occurred yet. Once it was cleaned and the skull was exposed, along with the rest of the bones, Angela could do facial reconstruction and give the victim their face back. After that, they'd try to find the person's identity through the face. Then, when that was over, they could find the murder weapon and the potential murderer. It seemed like a long process, but, according to Booth, the people of the Jeffersonian could get all of that done in a matter of days—they were all truly amazing to say the least.

Unfortunately, with all that happening, Kristen was left to just sit back and watch. That was an honor, at least to her, but it could get kind of boring. Besides, she didn't want to do nothing and stay on the sidelines with Booth because she was mad at him.

Thus, to avoid talking to him, Kristen went off to see how the squints stripped the body of its flesh—Hodgins had gotten all the particulates he needed. She eventually found Zack in one of the lab rooms where the body was in a case and he was holding two jars of little black/dark brown beetles.

The blonde hesitated.

Should she go in and talk to him? Or should she go find Dr. Brennan or Angela or Hodgins? Zack did not seem to enjoy Kristen being around. Her very presence appeared to make him uncomfortable.

_Probably 'cuz he hates me…,_ she thought sadly. It was silly to be upset over a person who you barely knew, but Kristen believed that every person—good or bad—had a significant importance in her life. When she had met Zack, she thought he'd have a good significant importance. Because her mother, though, it didn't seem that way at all, but Kristen didn't want to give up. Sure was not sure why, but she didn't care.

Taking a deep breath, Kristen entered and leaned against the doorframe. Twisting a strand of gold, she cleared her throat to get the genius' attention. Zack looked back idly. "Um…hello, Kristen." he greeted—Kristen noticed a bit stiffly, like always.

Kristen placed a big grinned and stepped up to him. "Hey. So uh, whatchya doing?" she asked innocently, hands folded behind her back.

"I'm stripping the flesh from the skeleton with dermestes maculates." he explained, pouring the jarred bugs into the glass container that contained the victim's body. Kristen noted a hint of affection at the mentioning of the bugs, but it may have just been her imagination.

"With the who-do-what?" Her brows furrowed.

"Flesh-eating beetles." the brunet translated. There was that hint of affection again.

"_Oooh._ Sorry. Don't know Latin very well. Can only speak French and can only do ASL fluently." Kristen shrugged.

"You can speak French and know how to do sign language?" Zack glanced to her with arched brows.

"Yeah," the blonde nodded absentmindely, watching the little insects crawl over the body with childish fascination. "Can speak a little German and Japanese, too."

"Why do you know so many languages?"

"Looks good on a resume. Casting directors like variety and makes it easier for them to cast someone who already knows the language that is in the script. My resume is full of things like that because of my mother; she made me a lot of different things growing up."

In the corner of her jade eye, Kristen noticed how Zack went rigid at the mentioning of her mother. Inwardly, she frowned. _Cheryl what did you say to this poor man?_ She quickly changed the subject, "So are these lil' guys your pets or something?"

Zack's brows furrowed quizzically at her random question. "What makes you ask such a thing?"

"'Cuz you sound so…_attached_. Like they're yours or something." the short woman pointed out. She looked up at him, the top of her head just shy of his shoulders. She cocked her head to the side, her bangs falling over her shoulder. "Am I wrong?"

Zack pursed his lips and peered to the flesh-eating before them. Should he answer truthfully? Hodgins had always said that usually girls didn't like bugs and would find it peculiar for someone to care for such creatures. Yet, as his brown watched Kristen inspect the creatures with such intent, Zack was thinking the bearded man was wrong despite his grand experience with women. Then again what did the graduate student know? He was inept in most social situations, couldn't read people easily, and wasn't very skilled with the opposite sex. Nevertheless, Kristen did not seemed creeped out or disgusted at all and not just with the bugs, but with his whole occupation in general; she actually seemed interested. So maybe she was the exception to the rule—there was always one to every rule.

"Yes," Zack said hesitantly, watching Kristen's face closely. Her skin tone was darker than his, he noticed, and made the brightest of greens in her eyes stand out exceptionally. Such observations, he pushed away as they made heat rush to his cheeks and made his stomach a tad queasy just like the first time he had taken in her features. "You could call them my pets in a sense. I-I have even named a majority of them." he admitted.

Kristen giggled, which made him frown in confusion. "Of course you did, Zack," she nodded. She smiled brightly. "And I bet you can tell the difference between all of them, too."

"Yes, actually." She laughed harder making his confusion deepen, showing on his boyish face—what was so funny? "I don't understand what you find humorous, Kristen." he said.

"Don't worry about it." The young woman shook her head, still chortling. Zack just stared at her blankly. "So how many of them have you named? There sure a lot in there." she stated, circling the tank.

"You don't find my affection for the beetles odd?" the anthropologist inquired.

"No?" Kristen answered, looking at him questionably. "Should I?"

"From what Hodgins has informed me and from what I have witnessed in past experiences, most women do."

"Hm. Yeah, makes sense. My friend Lottie is majorly scared of bugs, which is weird since her girlfriend _loves_ creepy crawlers. But I digress, I'm not most women. Besides, I've dated guys who have weirder pets, _believe me_. Like one guy I dated in high school had a pet dragon."

"Dragons don't exist."

"Try telling him that. Refused to believe me every time I told him. He was one of those guys who were big on the board game _Dungeons and Dragons_ and the card game _Magic_. Let's just say that relationship didn't last long."

"Oh…"

"Yeah."

"Have you dated many people?" Zack blurted.

Kristen arched a brow at the query as it was random yet, answered it since it seemed innocent enough. "Mmmm," she hummed for a moment, tucking her hands into her blue, gray, and green plaid dress' front pockets. She was gazing up at the ceiling, which Zack thought strange—did she expect the answer to be on the ceiling. Ultimately, the blonde answered, "Yeah, sorta."

"I don't understand."

"In other words, I've dated a lot of people. Not many were significant. Most were assholes."

"How unfortunate that very few pleased you, but it's not surprising you've had many."

Kristen's eyebrows shot up. "Really? How so?"

"Well, for starters, your face has very symmetrical features that common men would find appealing. As well, many might find your short-stature enduring since statistically most males like shorter women. You body is developed enough to be pleasing and so is your warm and inviting demeanor. Also, from what I witnessed at the club you move is such a fashion that would satisfy most men." Zack explained logically, not realizing that every word made Kristen blush harder and harder. When he finally did notice, his brows frowned at her bright red face. "Is something the matter, Kristen? Are you ill? Your face appears quite feverish." he said.

Jumping, she looked away embarrassed and twirled a finger in her flaxen hair. "…N-No, I'm f-fine. I just um…" she stuttered trying to find the right words to say, but couldn't—she was too flustered.

"If you are not ill then, you can take the skull to Angela. The beetles are finished, I just have to clear them away." Zack informed her.

"Uh, o-okay…" she said softly. _What the hell is wrong with you, Kris?! He was just complimenting you! In his own, strange way…_

Zack piled the flesh-eating beetles back into their jars, put the jars away, and picked up the now, clean skull before hanging into Kristen on a tray. She held it carefully and looked down at the flesh-free, white cranium—it looked so different than it had from before. Then, her long and dark-lashed eyes looked up at him, her cheeks still bright pink.

Should she say it? He couldn't hate her if he had said she was attractive. Right? Well, either way, she had to apologize for her mother and for not calling him back and tell him that she hadn't blown him off purposely. She wanted them to be on good terms, have the connection they had at the club—well, she thought they had had a connection.

"Hey, Zack--" she began uncertainly.

"You should take that to Angela, so we can identify the victim." he instructed monotonously.

Kristen made a face. "…Yeah, right." Sighing, she turned away from him and left the room.

She carried the tray to Angela's office with a deep frown on her slightly tan face. She entered the room to see Hodgins and the artist at her computer, going through the pictures of the body Kristen had taken earlier that day. They looked they were in engrossed in whatever conversation, but the twenty-one-year-old interrupted it when reached over their heads and placed the skulled tray on the table in front of them—a little harder than necessary.

Jumping, they turned to her with furrowed brows. "Something troubling you, sweetie?" Angela asked the shorter female.

"He hates me…" she pouted, plopping to the floor, kneeling between their chairs.

Angela and Hodgins exchanged glances before looking down at her. "Who hates you?" said Hodgins.

"Zack."

Angela looked at the girl sympathetic look while Hodgins laughed. Kristen's eyes narrowed at the curly-haired man. "_What_ is so funny, Curly?" she asked with a glare.

"Zack is so clueless about people that there is no way for him to hate someone. Usually, it's the other way around." Hodgins guffawed.

Angela elaborated when she saw Kristen's confused look, "What he means is that Zack can't really hate anyone. He's just not use to you, he's not very good with people. So don't take his coldness as hate. He'll warm up to you eventually." she reassured gently.

"But I thought we had gotten along so well at the club the other night. Yeah, we didn't talk very much, but he seemed like he was having fun with me. He even called me when I told him to." Kristen pointed out.

"And your mother answered instead." Hodgins interjected.

"That wasn't my fault!" she cried frantically.

"How?" he questioned. Angela looked just as curious. They had never gotten Kristen's side of the story.

"If you haven't noticed Cheryl is really strict. My friends even call her the "Fuhrer" she's so dictating. She doesn't let me go out a lot even though I don't live with her and I'm an adult. So she wasn't thrilled when she found out I went to a club without her permission, especially before my audition the next day—that I clearly got despite how exhausted I was. Thus, she took my phone, my lap top, and my car away. I was surprised she didn't confiscate my iPod, too considering how mad she was. So it really wasn't my fault that she answered when he called. And now, he hates me because of it."

"Oh, so _that's_ what happened." Hodgins said in realization, crossing his arms. "Well, that makes a lot more sense. You didn't seem the kind of chick to just blow a guy off like that."

"Thanks," Kristen said. "I think…"

"So why don't you just tell him that, Kris?" Angela suggested.

"I've tried!" Kristen admitted. "But he keeps avoiding me, so I can't ever do so. I was lucky to get more than a full sentence out him five minutes ago."

"You guys talked? He actually held a _normal_ conversation with you?" Hodgins said in mock surprise.

"Normal for Zack."

"What did you two talk about?" said Angela, folding her hands in her lap.

"The flesh-eating beetles."

"He talked about the bugs?" Hodgins rolled his blue eyes. How many times did he have to tell his best friend to not talk about bugs in front of girls? "Of course he did."

"He also said he thought I was attractive…in his own way."

"Awww. That's sweet." smiled Angela, an unreadable twinkle in her caramel hues. Kristen didn't like that look, but didn't point it out--it was probably nothing.

"I guess, but then, he kinda made me leave the room to give you the skull. Like he didn't want to talk to me anymore." Kristen stated with a deep sigh. She buried her head in her hands. "He's so confusing…"

"He can be, but like I said, you'll grow on him, Kris." comforted the artist, brushing Kristen's bangs from her face as they had fallen when the girl had hung her head.

"The Z-man is basically an alien, Squirt. He sucks with women. Just give him time, I guess." Hodgins added, but he sounded less encouraging.

Kristen sighed and rose to her sneakered feet, ignoring the nickname Hodgins had bestowed her—did he have to go after her height? "I guess," she muttered, tucking her hair behind her ears, which each had more than one piercing. "Well, anyway, the skull is all yours, Angela." She pointed to it.

"Thanks, hon." Angela beamed sweetly. "By the way, these pictures you took are really good. They're going to be a big help."

The younger and smaller female shrugged carelessly, her cheeks a soft pink. "No prob."

"Where did you learn to take pictures like this?" inquired Hodgins, jamming his thumb to them on the computer's screen.

"I've been taking classes since sophomore year of high school. It's just a hobby, no biggie. Besides, I wanted to do _something_ to help." Kristen muttered, becoming more and more bashful at the compliments—why was everyone complimenting her today?

"Well, they're good." Angela said, amused by Kristen's embarrassment.

"Bet you're a better photographer than you are an actress." teased Hodgins with a smirk.

Kristen deadpanned. "Ha ha. You're hilarious, Hodgins."

"Oh, there you are, Goldilocks!" came Booth's voice.

Inwardly, Kristen groaned, rolling her green hues. Did he _have_ to call her that? Did she look like a little girl who ate bears' porridge and slept in their beds? Of course not! She hated porridge and bears didn't sleep in beds or ate porridge. Besides that, she was purposely ignoring him and he knew that, so why had he been trying to find her?

"What, Seeley?" Kristen asked nonchalantly, peering at him over her slender shoulder.

"Hungry?" he asked cheerfully—a bit too cheerfully, forced almost.

Her eyes narrowed while Angela and Hodgins stared at them puzzled. "Maybe, why?"

"I thought you and I could get some dinner while the squints worked on the I.D." the FBI agent suggested.

"…Do we have to?" Kristen said.

His handsome face became stern. "_Yes_." She was going to be difficult, so he knew he had to put his foot down.

She frowned and looked back at the other two, who looked like they were holding back laughter--how did they find this comical? Rolling her eyes, she sighed deeply in frustration. From Booth's tone it sounded like there was no room for arguments and frankly, Kristen had nothing better to do and she was starving. "Fine. Let's go." she answered with reluctance.

"Great." Booth smiled—he did notice her lack of enthusiasm. He turned to the others. "Tell Bones to call me when you identify the victim." They just nodded and with that, the ex-sniper exited with Kristen following grouchily.

* * *

"When are you going to stop being mad at me?" Booth asked the blonde across from him at the local diner that smelled so fresh and mouth-watering.

During the entire ride to the diner from the Jeffersonian and through most of dinner—even when they ordered their meals—Kristen had not said a single word to him. The actress was outgoing girl, especially in her occupation, but she was quiet more often than not—well, quiet for _her_. However, when she was this kind of quiet, it unsettled Booth. Mostly because it was his fault. But she was at fault too.

"When you apologize for getting all up in my business." Kristen grumbled before taking an angry bite out of her grilled cheese sandwich.

""All up in your business"?" he mirrored perplexed, in mid-bite of his burger. _Who talks like that?_

"For reading my file without my permission." she translated with a roll of her eyes.

Booth made a face. She acted more like a disgruntled teenager than an adult. "I told you I wanted to know what you have been up to in the past five years. It's not liked I expected you to tell me anything." he told her, his voice hard—he knew being gentle and sweet wasn't going to work at this point.

"…I might have." Would she have really? She knew she wouldn't have told him anything major like Sarah dying, but she would've told him _something._

"No, you wouldn't have. It's not like you wear your heart on your sleeve, Kris. You act open and friendly, but you hide everything that's personal about yourself from everyone."

"…That's not true…"

"Who are you trying to fool? Me or yourself?"

Sighing deeply, Kristen lowered her Pepsi and gazed across at her old friend. "Seeley, you know this kind of stuff isn't easy for me and do you think it would be any easier for me to talk about someone precious to me being dead like Sarah?" she stated softly, her voice slightly shaky.

"No," Booth said just as quietly, softening at her sad, green eyes. He couldn't stay mad at her long, not when she looked like that. "But haven't known me long enough to at least trust me with something like that?"

"Yeah, but…"

"Look, Kristen. I'm sorry for invading your privacy, I won't do it again, I promise. Next time, I'll ask you, but you've got to try to let people in more. It's hard I know, but it'll be worth it in the end."

Kristen silently listened, her head hung so her hair curtained her expression. She picked at her fries. _You make it sound so easy, Seeley…_ She knew he was right, though, but giving a little of herself to others was something that she was reluctant to do, especially nowadays. On the other hand, maybe…she could take his advice…let people in more…at least one more time…

"Kristen?" Booth called to the girl when she didn't reply for a while.

Lifting her head, the actress smiled slightly. "Okay, I'll try." she vowed.

"Atta girl." he beamed causing her to grin more herself.

Suddenly, Booth's cell went off. The two jumped briefly and then, he answered, pressing the mobile to his ear. "Booth, talk to me."

He talked to whoever was on the other end for a few minutes. Kristen watched him closely, quietly anticipating what was going on. Soon, Booth ended the call and slid his phone back in his slacks' pocket. His dark eyes met Kristen's light ones.

"Conner Reilly." was all he said for Kristen to understand.

She frowned. _He sounds so innocent…_


	5. Truths and Lies

_Okidokie, guys! Here's chapter five. Um...people are enjoying this, right? Cuz I'm not getting many reviews or even people watching or favoring this. Please, review, I don't want to quit this story because it has barely begun and nothing especially good has started. If you have some constructive criticisim for me, I'll accept that too. Flaming in inappropiate. Anyway, this is the new segment. I hope you enjoy. if you do PLEASE REVIEW~!_

* * *

**Chapter Five: Truths and Lies**

**Why had **she asked to witness this? It was heartbreaking. Saddening. Nevertheless, if she was going to act as a criminal forensic anthropologist, that meant that she was going to have to act sad when pretending to break the news to murder victims' loved ones and that she had to see what it was like. That didn't make the situation any less painful to see.

Twisting a thick tress of light hair in her long index, Kristen forced herself to watch as Booth and Dr. Brennan told Connor's mother that he was found dead in their neighbors' pond. The poor red-haired woman was in hysterics, her heart breaking piece by piece with Booth's every gentle word and Brennan's stone-faced ones—there was hint of compassion to her beautiful eyes, though. Kristen was watching from behind the one way glassed window of the federal bureau's interrogation room.

"Did your son have any enemies, Mrs. Reilly?" questioned Booth.

"M-Miss," she corrected through her sobs, there was a slight Irish accent.

"Excuse me?"

"M-Miss. It's Miss. Reilly. My hus-husband and I-I split up wh-when Connor was j-just a baby."

"Oh, I apologize, Miss. Reilly."

"I-It's o-okay. But n-no. Connor w-was an ab-absolute sw-sweetheart. Everyone l-loved him. _Everyone_. E-Even his girl-girlfriend's ex-ex-boyfriend." Miss. Reilly explained, tears cascading down her freckled cheeks.

That caught Booth's attention. "Ex-boyfriend?" he questioned.

"Y-Yes. Willow w-was originally d-dating th-this boy Billy be-before she met my son." Miss. Reilly paused to sniffle, wiping her eyes. "B-Billy is a b-boy on C-Connor's basketball team. Th-They didn't always get along entirely, even th-though they were team-teammates, but they respected each other. B-Billy didn't really treat Willow v-very well, so Willow f-fell in love with Connor and n-naturally Billy wasn't pl-pleased. Th-They fought for a while, but th-they got over it." Miss. Reilly gazed up at Dr. Brennan and Booth with glassy gray orbs, a look of realization on her face. "Y-You th-think th-that would be considered a-a motive?" she asked aghast.

"It very well might be, ma'am." the ex-sniper responded seriously. He rose to his feet. "That is all for now, Miss. Reilly. Thank you for your help and we apologize again for your loss." Brennan and Miss. Reilly stood up with him.

"We will keep in touch with you as much as possible. We will find out what happened to your son, Miss. Reilly." Brennan said softly. At that, Kristen noticed that Booth was holding back a smile of approval.

Sniffling again, Miss. Reilly thanked them both glumly then, left the interrogation room. Booth and Brennan joined the young blonde waiting in the other room. She looked up at them curiously. "What now?" she questioned.

"We go back to middle school." Booth announced. Both women didn't seemed to enjoy that idea too much.

* * *

"Dude, you are screwing up _big_ time." Hodgins said aloud, him and Zack being the only ones on the Medico-Legal Lab's floor platform. Angela was in her office fiddling with the pictures Kristen had taken, Hodgins was looking at Connor's tox-screens and Zack was looming over the skeleton—what else was new?—looking for the cause of death and the possible murder weapons—so far he could only find feathers in the victim's nose and throat.

Furrowing his brows in confusion, Zack lifted his head and looked to his friend. "Are you speaking to me?"

Hodgins rolled his eyes, slouching in his chair. "Of course I am, man. There's no one else here."

"There are other scientists here. There's one, there's one," Zack pointed to all the passing people in blue lab coats. "There's--"

"Okay, okay, enough. I was just talking to you." Hodgins sighed deeply in frustration.

"I see. You should be more specific."

"_Anyway,_ like I was saying you are screwing up _big_ time."

"Excuse me?" Zack frowned.

"You're messing up. Making a huge mistake." Hodgins pointed out, trying to not let aggravation overwhelm him.

"With the bones? I certainly don't think so. I never make mistakes." countered the taller male.

"I meant with _Kristen_!" the blond man exclaimed in exasperation.

"Oh." Zack said. "How am I "screwing up big time" with Kristen?" Those words sounded less natural than they did when Hodgins had said them.

"She thinks you hate her." replied Hodgins.

Now, _that _surprised the young genius. His eyebrows shot up in such emotion, but that was the only change to his usually stoic face. "She…she thinks I _hate_ her? As in loathe? Detest? Despise? Abhor?" he questioned slowly.

Hodgins gazed at him oddly, not knowing why the Zack just listed all of the synonyms of the word hate. Nonetheless, he nodded. "Yeah, and she's pretty upset by it."

"She doesn't seem troubled to me."

"That's because Short-stack is an _actress_, she can pretend that she's not, but she is."

"But I don't understand where she'd get such an impression."

"It's not like you have been the most welcoming person since she started hanging around here. You're avoiding her like she's the plague. You are basically being a jerk to her." Hodgins stated.

"I did not mean to behave in such a manner, but I do not know why it is bothering her so much." Zack mumbled, staring down at the bones on the metal table.

"Because she likes you, dummy!"

"I am not dumb. My I.Q. is above 163, so that's not--"

"Zack! You're missing the point! Kristen likes you!"

"She does?"

"_Yes!_"

"…Then, why did she "blow me off" as you so put it?"

Sighing deeply, Hodgins rubbed his temples with closed eyes. "I made a mistake. Kris didn't do it on purpose." he began. "She went to the club without her mother's permission, so when her mom found out, she got into big trouble. Her mom took her phone, car, and computer away. So that's why her mom answered instead of Shorty herself."

"…I see…" was all Zack could utter. It did make a lot of sense; it seemed a lot more logical considering how friendly Kristen behaved towards him and how hard she tried to get him to talk to her.

"Yeah, and she's feels really bad about it, man," Hodgins gave his friend a firm look. "So stop being such an asshole to her."

Staying silent, Zack contemplated what his co-worker had told him. Kristen liked him, it had all been a misunderstanding. So there was no reason to think she wasn't interested, right? Or was that not the concept at all? They had fun at the club, right? Even Zack enjoyed himself despite his unfamiliar environment and social awkwardness because Kristen had made him forget all that and helped him have fun. So did that mean they could be friends? Or…what? He did not entirely understand. This was another one of those times where he wished he understood women like Hodgins and Booth did.

Either way, Kristen did not hate him and that made him feel…better. Happy, maybe? Did that make any sense?

"All right. I will try to be more…friendly towards her from now on." Zack announced stiffly.

Hodgins gave him a strange look again, but was smirking slightly. "I swear you speak another language sometimes, Zack." he chuckled with a shake of his head before returning his attention the computer.

Zack made a face.

* * *

"Honestly, Goldilocks, how do you manage such a thing?" Booth asked with a shake of his head as he helped Kristen off the ground of the parking lot of J.T. Miller Junior High School—the school Connor Reilly attended.

"I don't know, it just happens." Kristen grumbled, rubbing her sore knee that had hit the sidewalk in front of the school. She had tripped on the curb.

"No, tripping on a curb does not _just_ _happen._" the FBI agent retorted, placing his fists on his hips. The blonde girl shrugged, her cheeks flushed embarrassed as people—very few thankfully—who had passed by and had seen the incident snickered.

Brennan chimed up, "Kristen may have a balance problem."

"That could be it, but not really. Kris dances." her partner pointed out.

"Well, she may have also fallen because she leaves her bootlaces untied." The brunette pointed to Kristen calf-high sepia-colored boots.

Booth gazed down and scowled. "Yeah, that definitely could be it. Tie your shoes, Goldilocks and hurry. We need to speak to Connor's girlfriend and possibly some of his teammates, including that Billy kid." he ordered.

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Kristen sighed and rolled her ocean green hued eyes. She sat down on the curb and moved the hem of her white sundress, so she could tie her shoes. Once the twenty-one-year-old was finished, she rose and stepped onto the curb only to almost slip again. That time, luckily, Booth had caught her, grabbing her elbow. He looked down at her in scolding while she smiled up at him innocently. "Sorry." she apologized shyly. Shaking his head, he let her go and headed towards the girl. She made a face. _It's not like I fall on purpose…_

"Are you alright, Kristen?" asked Brennan, looking at the girl with furrowed brows.

Kristen looked at her slightly surprised. Had the older and much taller asked if she was okay, like she cared? Don't get her wrong, the blonde didn't think Dr. B was heartless or anything, but Kristen kind of thought she didn't particularly like the actress all that much. So the blue-eyed woman asking about her well-being brought a smile to her mildly tanned face.

"Yeah, I'm chill. No worries." she answered cheerfully.

"You're cold? Is your jacket not heavy enough?" Brennan said quizzically.

Kristen laughed and grabbed Brennan wrist gently tugging her the front doors where Booth was waiting for them. "No, no. It means I'm fine. Thanks for asking."

"Oh, I see." was all Brennan said, the two woman joining the only male of the group.

Once they caught up with him, the three entered, stepping into a long hallway lined with dull green lockers and doors leading into classrooms. They had to stop at the school office first to notify the principal that they were there and why. The principal, who was a graying, stout woman was devastated by the news but allowed them to carry on with their business wishing them the best of luck and saying she'd tell the rest of the staff.

Since it was the middle of the day, the majority of the students and staff were in the cafeteria eating lunch; the rest were residing in the hallways chatting animatedly, going through their lockers, or were in class. It reminded Kristen of her college since such things never changed through the grades yet, at the same time, the environment felt very different compared to her college experience. That was probably because memories of her junior high school years were coming back to her and well…her middle schools years weren't amongst her most favorable memories. As it would seem, from Brennan's tense shoulders and her pursed lips, pressed in a very firm line, middle school hadn't been one of her favorite places either.

Booth must've spotted the females' behavior as they walked through the hallway, getting curious looks from boys and girls, because he inquired of them, "Why are you two so edgy?"

"I hated middle school." admitted Kristen. Her shoulders were hunched, her army green hoodie's hood was over her fair head, and one of her hands was tucked into her jacket's pocket while the other's index finger—her nails being painted a subtle gold today—was twisted in a strand of her long, straight hair.

"I have to concur with Kristen's statement." added Brennan, she didn't look quite as rigid, but she didn't look pleased.

"Oh." he said softly. He frowned a little, but didn't press the matter further—they probably wouldn't tell him anyway, at least not Kristen.

Ultimately, they reached the cafeteria and their ears were instantly bombarded with shouting, laughing, talking, clattering of trays, and of rickety lunch tables and benches. Also, their noses were engulfed the smells of various foods—it was easy to tell who was eating the cafeteria food, though as it never smelled tasty or looked it either.

"So what does Willow look like?" Brennan asked as they peered over the many heads in search of the young girl.

"Mmmmm," Booth mused, his keen orbs looking about. They narrowed when saw a small group of girls were all mostly wearing dark clothing, but had incredibly sad expressions on their faces, especially one. "Over there. Back table on the far right." he said aloud.

With that, the three went over the group of girls, who immediately stopped talking—speaking in somber, hushed tones—when the three adults approached. Though, they probably had stopped speaking because Booth looked so intimidating—completely in agent, crime-fighter mode.

"Hello, girls. I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth of the FBI," Booth stated, flashing his badge with an expert flick then, closing it in the same manner. "These are my associates, Dr. Temperance Brennan and Kristen Faust." Brennan gave a curt nod and Kristen sheepishly waved.

The girls muttered cautious greetings. Booth cleared his throat. Their scared greetings struck a sympathetic cord in him, they probably knew what was going on, but remained emotionless—he had to. "Which one of you is Willow Yates?" he asked, peering at each of their faces closely.

"M-Me," a mousy, short-haired brunette, who had those rare and pretty purplish eyes, said, raising her hand. She didn't look more than twelve-years-old, but had a maturity to her face."I'm Will-Willow."

"Do you mind if we ask you some questions in private?" he said.

Willow looked to her friends, whose expressions were full of concern. Then, she looked back to Booth, Kristen, and Brennan. She deeply frowned and swallowed multiples times before saying almost inaudibly, "Yeah, sure."

Nodding, Booth ushered the young girl out of the cafeteria and the four headed outside to the back of the school where there was a small basketball court, a kickball field, and playground. There were some dark blue benches spread about and Willow, Booth, Brennan, and Kristen chose one and sat down on it—Kristen and Willow on one side and Booth and Brennan on the other.

"Willow, do you know why we're here?" Booth questioned, his big hands folded on the table in front of him.

Willow had her head hung very low, her hands clenching and unclenching her skinny purple jeans. "…Because of Connor, right? I don't know how or why, but he's dead, right?" she whispered, her voice shaking.

"Yes," the only male there nodded.

"He was actually murdered." add Brennan bluntly, but with no ill intent. Booth shot her a look nevertheless.

Willow's head shot up, chocolate wisps falling from her white face. Her eyes were wide, glassy. "C-Connor was…murdered?" she choked out. When Booth, Brennan, or Kristen didn't answer instantly, Willow knew the answer and her voice grew frantic, "How? Why? What happened?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out, Willow." Kristen said gently, watching to hug or how the girl's hand on impulse. Willow was too young and fragile looking to be going through such a thing like her boyfriend being dead, killed. It wasn't fair and broke Kristen's heart. Is this what Dr. Brennan, Booth, and the squints dealt with everyday? Was she going to be able to act as cool-headed with her character in the TV show as Booth and Brennan were right now?

"Connor's mother said that you had dated someone before him. A boy named Billy, right?" Booth queried, getting straight to the point. He honestly wanted to visiting interrogating the girl before she burst into tears. She may be a possible suspect and could lie to him, but he didn't like making young girls cry.

"Yeah, but…what does Billy have to do with this?" Willow's thin eyebrows creased at her small forehead. Her eyes grew again with awareness. "You don't think Billy's a suspect, do you?"

"It's very possible. Miss. Reilly informed us that Billy and Connor did get along very well, especially after you and Billy ended your relationship and began one with Connor. He could've possibly still be angered by the situation." the oldest female explained seriously.

"No! Billy wouldn't do such a thing! Yeah, he was ticked 'cuz of the whole thing, but he got over it! They apologized and everything! Sure, they're been best friends or anything, but Billy would never kill Connor! Never ever!" Willow cried, standing, her hands clasped to her chest. "I promise!"

"Willow, calm down, please." Booth said as comforting as possible, a bit taken aback by the young girl's outburst.

She blushed from her outburst, the pink color being very predominant on her delicate cheeks. Willow apologized softly and sat back down. Kristen placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile before retreating her hand to her lap. Willow just looked at her then, to Booth and Brennan. "Besides, there's no way Billy could've killed Connor nor anyone from their basketball team. 'Cuz Connor's been in the hospital for the past month." Willow confessed, her voice shaky.

"He was in the hospital?" said the other three with confused expressions. Miss. Reilly hadn't said anything about that.

"Yeah, since the basketball season started. His mother never told me what he had, but she said he was very sick and had to be kept under constant watch at the hospital two blocks down. I visited Connor a couple of times and asked his doctor and his nurses what was wrong with him, but they said they didn't exactly know. One minute he was completely fine and the next, he wasn't. Apparently, he had to take a lot of medications and stuff. It was really weird." Willow explained. Brennan, Booth, and Kristen exchanged glances. Willow spotted their look and arched a brow. "Do you think the hospital killed him by overdose?" she asked.

"Maybe…" Booth mused, a strange look in his dark, narrow eyes. He then, rose to his feet. "Thank you, Willow, for all of your help."

"We are very sorry for your loss." Brennan added, almost automatically, but with a hint of sincerity. She and Kristen stood as well.

Willow got up too and bit her lip before hesitantly saying, "When you find out happened to Connor, will you please tell me?"

Booth and Brennan looked at each other, wondering if it was such a good idea to get a kid so young involved whether it was her boyfriend or not. However, without missing a beat, Kristen said confidently, "Of course. We'll keep ya posted."

Willow smiled a little at the blonde girl—Kristen was just a little taller than her, which Kristen found very annoying, but kept to herself—while Booth and Brennan stared at her mildly shocked. The two young people exchanged phone numbers and with that Kristen, Booth, and Brennan left the playground and the school, heading to the car—they'd interrogate Billy later when school got out.

Booth turned to Kristen and placed a hand on her covered head with a small smile. Kristen peered up at him curiously. "That was a very good thing you did back there, Goldilocks. That kid could use someone like you right now." he praised, tousling her hair beneath the hood from on top of it.

"Yes, getting comfort from someone older and wiser than her, especially of the same sex could be very good for Miss. Yates." Brennan concurred with a pleasant smile of her own. That was just before her cell phone went off.

Blushing, Kristen made a face and swatted Booth hand away. "Don't make such a big deal out of it. Willow deserves to know what happened to her boyfriend that's all." she mumbled embarrassed.

"Well, according to Hodgins," Brennan cut in, her lovely face serious again. "Connor had had a lot of varied medications in his system and said that Zack claims that the feathers in the victim's throats and nostrils that asphyxiated him were from a pillow. Both pillow and medications are from the hospital, St. Catherine's, two blocks down from here."

"So Willow was telling the truth, right?." Kristen said, letting it all process. She turned to Booth, who was rubbing his chin, a pensive expression on his handsome face. "Does that mean Miss. Reilly was lying to us? She didn't tell us her son had been in the hospital up until his death. She just immediately assumed it was Billy or lead us to believe that." she pondered.

"That is very possible." Booth said, Brennan and Kristen looked at him intently. He looked between them. "First we have to interrogate Billy, confirm his innocence then, confront Miss. Reilly about why she just so happened to skip such an important piece of information before visiting the hospital."

Brennan and Kristen nodded with only one question in Kristen's mind, _Who is lying and who is telling the truth?_


	6. Twisted Illness

_Hey, guys! New chapter! Yays! Thank to those reviewed, favored, and chose to watch this story--I apologize for complaining all the time for the lack of reviews, sorry, I'm just hoping that people are liking this story. Anyway, here's the lastest segment, I hope you enjoy. And I'm sorry if this is going at a slow speed and has very little Zack/Kristen interaction, but that won't last for long. Things will be speeding up after this case, which just about almost finished. So I hope you like this chapter and if you do please review. Constructive criticism is welcome, but flaming in approapiate._

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**Chapter Six: Twisted Illness**

**They had **interrogated Billy Marshall, but he told them pretty much what Willow had told them, but in a calmer manner—he was still quite perturbed by his teammate's death and didn't like the thought that he had to be the one who told the coach and the rest of the team.

Billy had told them that Connor was a really likable kid, but did have their fights, especially with the whole Willow incident. Nevertheless, Billy said didn't kill Connor and wouldn't ever do such a thing. And even if he could or wanted to, he couldn't because Connor was always in the hospital and wasn't allowed many visitors or long visiting hours. Only his mother had such privileges. His mother never told Billy, the coach, or his teammates what was wrong with her son except that he was very sick. They asked the doctor and nurses, but they said they didn't know what was wrong with the boy except that one minute the boy was fine and then, the next, he wasn't. That was all Billy knew and that was all Booth, Brennan, and Kristen needed to know.

With all of that information, Booth had brought in Miss. Reilly again, who seemed very confused by that.

Like last time, Booth and Brennan sat in the interrogation room across from the befuddled and distraught fiery-headed mother and Kristen was in the other room watching behind the two-way window—she was taking notes this time, though.

"Miss. Reilly, why did you not tell us that your son had been emitted into the hospital last month and had been there up until his death?" Booth question, his eyes narrowed.

"Oh," Miss. Reilly frowned. "I-I didn't think it was important." she muttered.

"Not important?" Booth's eyebrow rose. There was a suspicious twinkle in his dark brown optics.

"It is very important, Miss. Reilly because we found feathers from a hospital pillow that could've possibly been the murder weapon and medications in his system that could only be handed out at St. Catherine's Hospital, the same hospital your son was emitted into a month ago." explained Brennan.

"Care to explain to us why your son was in the hospital for so long?" the FBI agent inquired, staring down the mother.

Miss. Reilly bit her cherry lip, a look of apprehension on her face. She sighed deeply before answering, "Connor had always been very weak since birth. His health was always abnormal. His height was even abnormal for a boy of only twelve. Anyway, this year before basketball season started, my son began to get very sick, more so than normal. And since I knew no normal doctor could help him, I took him to the hospital." she admitted.

"What was wrong with him?" Booth said.

"I'm not entirely sure. The doctor wouldn't tell me, I don't even think he knew. They just kept trying different medications on Connor." Miss. Reilly paused and her brows furrowed. She looked up at the people across the metal table from her with wide eyes suddenly. "They did it! The hospital! They overdosed my son and when they killed him they dumped him in a pond to get rid of the evidence!" she exclaimed.

Booth and Brennan exchanged looks, which Kristen recognized, but only because she was thinking what they were thinking. This lady was very quick to blame people.

"That's kind of a weird thing for a hospital to do." Booth stated, crossing his arms.

"Doesn't mean they wouldn't." Miss. Reilly countered.

"Hmmm, yes." He exhaled deeply. "Miss. Reilly, we're going to need your son's medical records and the name of his doctor at St. Catherine's."

"Of course. I'll send them right away. Anything to help you find what bastard murdered my sweet boy." she nodded curtly.

"Good. Thank you. That will be all." Booth said briskly, standing. "You may go. Someone will escort you out."

"Right. Thank you very much." Miss. Reilly got to her feet and left the interrogation room.

Once she was gone, Booth and Brennan looked at each other again and then, to the two way window knowing Kristen was staring right back. They were all thinking one thing: Miss. Reilly was becoming more and more suspicious with every passing moment.

* * *

This was worse than being in the middle school. _Way_ worse. Kristen _hated_ hospitals and pretty much everything that pertained to them. And yet, there she was strolling the unrealistically white hallways of St. Catherine Hospital alongside with Booth, Brennan, and Hodgins—they picked him up after Miss. Reilly sent Connor's medical records and gave them Connor's doctor, so he could check things out in Connor's room. The blonde's shoulders were hunched again, her hood pulled further over her head, and her index finger yanking on a strand of hair as her green hues darted from place to place.

Being the walking beside her, Hodgins noticed the younger person's anxiety and smirked, quite amused by it. "You okay there, Tiny?" he asked with a small chortle. Booth and Brennan were busing themselves ahead, talking to each other—Kristen couldn't help but notice how well they interacted…well, when they weren't arguing.

Her right eye twitched. "For starters, stop giving me nicknames that make fun of my height," she retorted dryly, but tightly.

"Why? They suit you since you are really short." teased the slime and bug specialist, his smirk wider.

"And you're a tree?" Kristen shot him a look. He scowled, his height was a sensitive subject too. It was her turn to smirk, which he glared at. She ignored and continued with answering his previous question, "And no, I am not okay. I absolutely _detest _hospitals. My feelings go far beyond hate."

"You hate a lot of things, don't you, Kris?" Booth cut in as Hodgins and Kristen's conversation had caught his and Brennan's attention as they headed to the room Connor had been staying in—they were told at the front that Connor's doctor would meet them their after he took care of another patient.

"Yes," she answered without hesitation making the older people there smirk amused. "But with very good reason, especially concerning hospitals."

"Care to tell enlighten us as to why you hate hospitals?" Booth questioned, a mocking expression on his face.

"First, they smell like lemons and death," Kristen began listing her reasons on her fingers.

"You can't smell death." Brennan pointed out logically.

"I know, but I feel like I can. It's eerie." the blonde admitted. She couldn't explain it, but that's just how she felt. She felt like she could smell and sense death looming in the hospital rooms. Pleasant, no?

"That doesn't make sense."

"I know."

"Then, how--"

Booth cut his partner off, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked to him as he shook his head. "Let it go, Bones. Goldilocks' logic never makes sense. Don't question it." he told her making Brennan's brows furrow, Kristen deadpan, and Hodgins snicker. Brennan didn't press that matter further, though.

"_Anyway,_" Kristen continued. "And lastly, I don't like doctors that work in hospitals. I have nothing against the people personally, just the profession. Yeah, they can give life, but they can take it away, too. I don't like people having that kind of power over me."

"Now, that's more rational." Brennan gave a nod.

"Wait, you don't like doctors for having so much power, but you have no problem with the feds or the government?" questioned Hodgins skeptically, which earned him a glare from Booth.

"No everyone is as paranoid as you, Curly." Kristen said with a shake of her head. She liked him, but his theories were pretty crazy at times.

"Whatever you say, Teeny." Hodgins shrugged.

"Stop calling me short!" she snapped, red in the face. "I'm just fun-size…" That made the males laugh, which cause her to scowl and blush—she didn't find it that funny.

"If you three are done, we've reach the room. Room 289, correct?" Brennan announced calmly, indicating to the doorway the four stood in front of.

"Yeah," Booth nodded, checking the room number that they had been given from the woman at the front desk.

They strolled inside the private room, which wasn't being used at the moment. It was identical to the other rooms in the institute. It was impeccably clean, extremely white, smelled of lemon pine, and was eerily quiet. The empty bed was done perfectly with various machines around it, not in use.

Brennan and Hodgins started to examine the bed, especially the two flat and uncomfortable looking pillows. Booth walked about the rest of the room in search of any clothes and Kristen stayed in the corner in the tense position she was in earlier.

After a minute, Brennan straightened and looked straight at Booth. "This isn't the exact pillow used to suffocate the victim, but a pillow was definitely use to asphyxiated to do so." she claimed boldly.

"So where's the real murder weapon?" he asked.

"Either in the garbage or the washing machine." Hodgins replied.

"I understand the washing machine because they wash the bedding after a week, but why the garbage?" Kristen said perplexed.

"The only way the kid could've gotten feathers in his throat and nose was if he bit into the pillow they came. He was probably screaming when he was being suffocated and just happened to chomp down."

"Oh, fun…"

"That was sarcasm, correct? Because being asphyxiated and biting pillows is not fun." said Brennan, looking to the other female oddly.

Kristen blinked—she really wondered if Dr. Brennan and Zack were from a different planet sometimes and she didn't even know them that well. "Yeah, that was sarcasm, Dr. Bren."

"Um, excuse me?" came a soft male's voice from the entrance of the room. Everyone turned to see a middle-aged man with dark hair and rimless spectacles adorned in a white coat. He looked at them all inquisitively. "You must be Special Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, Dr. Hodgins, and Miss. Faust, correct? You wanted to speak to me on a previous patient Mr. Connor Reilly?"

"Yes, Dr. Winston, we have some questions for you, if that's alright." Booth said.

"Of course, but I do not understand why I or this hospital would be under interrogation by the FBI." Dr. Winston said.

"Mr. Reilly has been murdered. He was found in the pond of his neighbor's a couple of days ago." Brennan told him.

"O-Oh, my." the medical doctor breathed, his face paling. He plopped down into a chair in the room. "H-How terrible. How did this happened?"

"You were not aware of Connor's death?" Booth question, arms folded.

"Most definitely not." Dr. Winston turned to Booth with narrowed eyes. "Are you insinuating that I murdered the boy?"

"Is that a confession?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Agent Booth. I did not kill him."

"The kid had a lot of different medications in his system from our tox-screens and was suffocated by a hospital pillow." Hodgins stated.

"Well, if you looked at your tox-screens closer, most of those medications were very harmless and were given in very small and insignificant amounts. Some were even just placebos." the spectacled man pointed out, his voice no longer soft, but was now agitated. "So there is no way I murdered Mr. Reilly by overdosing if that's what you're thinking."

"His mother stated that Connor was a very weak child." Brennan said.

"That is true. He had a bad immune system and didn't get enough sleep, which weakened that even more. Nothing serious though."

"So then, why was he emitted to this hospital?" Booth inquired.

"Because his mother said that he was terribly ill. He just had a minor cold."

"And you kept him here for nearly a month for just a cold?"

"No, of course not."

"Then, why?"

"Because…it's hard to explain." Dr. Winston pressed his lips together tightly, clasping his hands together.

"Try us." Booth urged, sitting in the chair next to Dr. Winston. Everyone was listening in anticipation.

"…One minute the boy was perfectly fine, the next he wasn't."

That was exactly what everyone else had been telling them. So no one lying about that, but what did that mean then? How could someone be healthy one at one moment and then, be sick the next? What kind of an illness was this? Is Connor was even really sick?

"Can you elaborate, Doc?" Booth said, starting to become a bit impatient. Someone was lying and he was tired of getting the same answers.

"In other words, during the day, Connor was fine. No signs of anything irregular except his usual fatigue and weak immune system. However, at night, just before visiting hours are finished and it's time for the patients to go to bed, his conditions changes. Sometimes drastically. His heart monitor is racing and he's screaming in pain. But we find nothing wrong yet, we leave him over night for tests just in case. Thus, the different medications and why we kept him here so long." Dr. Winston explained in a strained voice. "It was all so strange. There was no plausible explanation for it all."

For a while, no one said anything letting what the doctor had said process.

Then, Dr. Brennan spoke up, "We are going to need to look at all of the medications you prescribed to Mr. Reilly and are going to need access to the bedding of this bed, mostly the pillows, when Mr. Reilly was residing here." she declared.

Shakily, Dr. Winston nodded. "O-Of course. You can take whatever you need. Connor was a good kid, he didn't deserve to die." the dark-haired man said sincerely.

Inwardly, Kristen smiled. _His mother was at least being honest when she said everyone loved her son…_

"There are security camera in the hospital, right?" Booth asked.

"Naturally. In every patients' room and in every hallway."

"Then, we're going to need the tapes of when Connor staying in here."

"Yes, yes. Anything else?"

"And a record of Connor's visitors?"

"Sure. I will get all of it for you right away."

Booth grinned a tad. "Thank you very much."

"Of course." Dr. Winston just nodded. He then, stood. "For starters, I can lead you to our supply room where we keep our medicine supply and I can call a nurse to take one of you to the laundry room for the bedding."

Very grateful for his assistance, Booth and Brennan said they'd go with the doctor to the supply room and Hodgins volunteered to go with the nurse, especially when he got a look of her—a pretty brunette with big doe eyes. However, since it was getting late and Kristen had class tomorrow early, she said regrettably that she should probably get back home to her apartment and that Austen would pick her up. So with that, they said their goodnights to the blonde—adding that they'd keep her updated—before the four went their separate ways.


	7. Mommy Dearest

_Yay! New chapter! Thanks to those who have been supporting me so far, it keeps me going. Anyway, this chapter makes me feel so smart for taking psychology, lol. I hope you all enjoy this new segment, especially since it's the end of this case and there's a cute yet, awkward moment between Kristen and Zack--at least in my opinion. Please, enjoy and if you do, please review! Constructive criticsim is welcomed, flaming is not._

_**Disclaimer:** I keep forgetting this...I do NOT own Bones._

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**Chapter Seven: Mommy Dearest**

**Z****ack and Dr. Brennan **would make fun of her right now if they knew what class she was in. Well, they didn't know exactly how to "make fun" exactly; the two geniuses would just criticize her for being so "illogical" or "irrational" to take such a subject. Well, they weren't at Kristen's college and taking General Psychology made sense to _her_—it would help with her acting, allowing her to understand characters better. Besides, deep down, Kristen really liked psychology; trying to understand criminal minds, mental illnesses, and other things fascinated her.

Especially today. Today Dr. Fraken had finished his lesson on child abuse early and there was still twenty minutes left to her hour and twenty-five minute class, so he was allowing his students to do whatever they wanted, as long as it was psychology-related.

That being, Kristen took that opportunity to look at the security camera videos of when Connor was in the hospital that Angela had e-mail on her laptop—she got her possessions, including her car, back since her punishment was over. At the same time, the blonde actress was doing her homework for the class, which was an essay various kinds of abuse—they had to choose a specific one and write about it.

"What type are you gonna choose, Kris?" inquired Zoey in a bored tone. The dark-haired girl—her streaks lime green that week—was sitting beside the blonde on her laptop. She was pretending to be working, but she was actually texting Charlotte, who was in Creative Writing, on her Blackberry.

"I'm not entirely sure." Kristen responded in a distracted tone. Her green eyes were focused intently on the videos on went on while Connor was in the hospital. There were two boxes on the screen of her Mac Notebook—the videos on QuickTime and Microsoft Word.

Arching an eyebrow, Zoey leaned over to her friend and glanced at what was on her screen wondering why she was so focused on it—Kristen was a good student, but she never focused _that_ hard on schoolwork. "What the _fuck_ are you watching?" Zoey questioned skeptically.

"Security camera videos of St. Catherine hospital." the smaller female claimed nonchalantly, clicking the next video where Willow was visiting Connor. Kristen found it strange how the camera wasn't completely directly on the patient. The most you could see was the right half of Connor and all of whomever was visiting him—well, as long as they stayed on his right side.

"_Why?_" the paler girl said slowly with furrowed brows. Zoey always thought Kristen was an oddball—who wasn't in their group of friends?—but this was kind of pushing it. "Isn't that a bit, oh, I don't know, sketchy?"

Kristen rolled her eyes. "They're from the recent case I'm helping Dr. Bren, the squints, and Seeley with, 'tardface. I'm not doing this for some cheap, twisted thrills. I'm not you, Zo."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Zoey huffed. Her eyes flicked to her phone as it vibrated with a text from her girlfriend.

"From what Lottie has told me, without my consent I might add, you are into some pretty kinky stuff." Kristen stated before shuddering. Charlotte had a big problem of indulging too much, especially on her sex life—Meghan was the same and Kristen feared of when she and Isaac got back from their honeymoon.

"Eh, what can ya do?" shrugged Zoey, not hiding her smug smirk. Kristen rolled her eyes again with a shake of her fair head. _Nasty…,_ she thought before looking back to her computer.

"So do they know who's done it yet?" casually asked Zoey, her thumb moving speedily over the buttons of her cell.

"Nope," Kristen sighed. "We've got a few suspects though. The mother is on the top of the list or at least on mine."

"Oh?" Zoey's interest was peaked as a smirk tugged at the corners of her lips—the girl loved murders, crimes, and stuff like that; she was a bit sadistic. "What makes you say that?"

"Cuz the woman's crazy."

"…That wasn't vague at all."

"Well, I don't have a straight answer cuz I don't have all the facts. That's why I'm watching these tapes."

"Oh. Well, hope 'bout I help? Four eyes are better than none. Though, you technically have that already taken care of." Zoey joked cheekily, pointing to Kristen's dark brow rimmed glasses.

Scowling, Kristen looked to her sharply. "Shut you face."

"Great comeback, I feel really hurt." scoffed Zoey.

"Whatever. Just shut and watch. Tell me if you see anything weird." snapped the other girl.

Just nodding, Zoey pushed her chair closer to Kristen and they both sat quietly in their chairs to watch the silent videos. They watched them multiple times, each at least three times, until class was over.

"So did you see anything, Zoey?" Kristen asked as the two students strolled through the crowed hallway to go to their next class.

"Hmmm. Nothin' special." Zoey shrugged, her hands tucked into her black high collared jacket's pockets. Kristen frowned—she was at a loss too. "But…" Zoey hummed making Kristen's eyebrows shoot up. "I did find it weird how his mother never seemed to visit him."

Kristen's brows furrowed. "Yeah, she did. She was one of the only visitors who were there the most. Day and night. All the time." she pointed out.

"Oh? Really? Cuz I never saw her. She must've been out of the camera's shot." the taller woman shrugged again carelessly.

However, her dry comment sent shivers up Kristen's spine and she stopped short. Her eyes widened as something clicked in her head. Noticing her friend wasn't walking by her side anymore, Zoey stopped and glanced back at her. "What's up, Kris?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Holy shit on crackers…" Kristen breathed horrified.

"What?" Zoey gave her a weird look.

Not answering, the darker-skinned girl slipped her bag off her shoulder, yanked out her white laptop and opened it up at the ground against the nearest wall as she knelt by it. All the while, Zoey was asking her what she was doing and what was going on. Kristen continued to not answer as she clicked on the hospital videos again, clicking on only a few specific ones. They were ones of where Connor was alone.

Kristen watched them _very_ closely this time, not even blinking.

The times on the video read eleven o'clock or a little later at night, just before visiting hours were over and lights were supposed to be out. Connor seemed like he was alone and that's why Kristen hadn't paid much attention to it before, but now the clips were showing her something different. Connor, a shaggy-haired boy with lots of freckles, was looking to his left and looking very distressed, frightened even. Kristen narrowed her eyes from under her spectacles and realized that Connor appeared to be talking to someone in each in video. However, one video had one big difference.

In one, his face was completely off the screen. The majority of the right side of his body was visible, though and he was thrashing about, struggling. And in a brief flash, Kristen saw a hand and the side of a pillow. It went on for only a few minutes before the clip stopped, but she didn't need to see the rest to know what happened.

The words _Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy_ resounded in her brain.

A gasped escaped her slightly chapped lips as her eyes grew. She paled, a hand clasping over her opened mouth. "Oh…my…God…"

"What?! What?! Kristen, what's going on?!" Zoey asked frantically, concern flooding into her eyes.

Slowly, Kristen gazed up at her. She looked petrified. "I-I know who…I know who kill-killed…Connor." she choked out. "H-His mother did it…"

Zoey's mouth dropped, her expression mirroring her companion's. "Well, fuck me sideways…"

Kristen slammed her computer shut, stuffed it back into bag, and shot to her feet. She quickly fished for her iPhone in the unorganized pockets of her bag, muttering hurriedly, "I have to call them…I have to call them…"

When she finally found her cell, she searched through her caller history, found Zack's number, pressed "Call back", and pressed it to her. Impatiently, pulling a lock of gold, Kristen listened to the ringing. "Come on, come on, Zack. Pick up your damn phone." she whispered. Zoey just watched carefully, biting her pierced lip.

Finally, "_Zack Addy_," came his emotionlessly answer.

"Zack! The mom did it!" Kristen cried, her voice picking up an octave.

"_Kristen?_" the genius questioned on the other end.

"Yeah! The mom did it!" she repeated, yanking on her hand.

"_I-I don't understand._"

"Connor's mother killed him! Look at the videos of when Connor's "alone", around eleven o'clock at night! Now!"

"_But--_"

Groaning in frustration, Kristen rolled her eyes. "If I'm wrong, you can bore me to death with math, okay!?" She heard Zoey almost laugh at that, but didn't considering the situation.

"_Should I be insulted?_"

"Just do it, Zachary Addy! I'll be at the Jeff in a few!"

With that, the twenty-one-year-old hung up and turned to Zoey. "Tell Austen to tell Dr. Vernon that I'm sick and that I'll see Austen at home later!" she instructed.

"Right! Now, go!" Zoey nodded, pushing her friend to get going.

Kristen didn't need to be told. She bolted down the hallway towards the exit.

* * *

"I can't believe it…" breathed Angela under the hand that was over her mouth.

"You should've heard my friend, Zoey's response." frowned Kristen.

Everyone was gathered in the Angela's office around her TV. They were all re-watching the tapes of Connor from the hospital, specifically the ones where he seemed alone late at night. Kristen had pointed out what she had discovered and let everyone come to the realization themselves, which didn't take very long. And when the truth became evident, everyone was silent in shock.

"How did you figure it out?" Hodgins questioned, peering to the blonde girl on the couch next to him.

"Thanks to my General Psychology professor." Kristen admitted, immediately getting skeptical looks from Zack and Brennan—not that she was surprised by that. Seeing their expressions, Kristen explained the process of how she concluded that the mother was the murder, starting from her class' lesson to what Zoey had pointed out to her. As well, she explained the reason why she figured out that it was Miss. Reilly, "It's called _Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy._ Basically it's a mental condition and a form of child about when the parent or guardian of a child, in this cause the mother, makes up illnesses for the child. The mother does this to gain attention. Not the best way to do it, but they do it. And since the child doesn't want to contradict their mother, they start believing it themselves. Most likely Connor believed his mother and thought he was terribly ill."

"That doesn't explain why Dr. Winston didn't know what was wrong with Connor. Shouldn't he have been aware of such a condition?" Brennan pointed out. There was still doubt in her eyes that psychology could've helped solved this case when it was so flawed.

"Because Connor had a combination of symptoms that doesn't conform to any know disease or disorder. All the doctor knew was that he had a weak immune system. Not to mention, _Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy_ is a recently discovered thing because no one paid close attention to such things on security cameras. Dr. Winston probably didn't even consider a possibility as he was most likely not familiar with it. As well, Miss. Reilly convinced him that there was something terribly wrong with her son and gave a very compelling medical history using terms she looked up or something. And Connor has been to various doctors for his weak immune system, but doctors do not ever contact each other. You have to get the file by yourself. Anyway, Miss. Reilly may have accidentally killed Connor while trying to create freaky symptoms so he could stay in the hospital and continue to get sympathy and whatever else attention she'd get." Kristen elaborated.

"Wow, who would've thought," whistled Hodgins. "There is a brain in that little blonde head of yours. You sure you're an actress, Kristen?"

She shot him a glower. "Oh, shut up." she spat.

"Either way," Booth placed a hand on the girl's head and ruffled her hair. "Good job, Goldilocks." Then, he turned to his partner. "Let's go, Bones. We've got an arrest to make." he stated.

"Right." she nodded and rose. The anthropologist started to follow the FBI agent out of the office, but stopped for a moment and glanced back at Kristen. "Kristen," she called hesitantly. "You did a good job despite the fact you reached your conclusion with a weak science." Brennan looked quite reluctant to say such, but said it either way knowing it was the right thing to do.

"Uh…thanks, Dr. Bren." Kristen answered slowly, not knowing that was a compliment or not.

Just nodding, the older and taller turned and proceeded out of the office after Booth. After that silence fell. That was until Hodgins cough, clearing his throat and rose to his feet. "Well, I gotta go check on something in my office." he announced. He peered to Angela with a mischievous smirk on his scruffy face. 'Want to help me, Angela?" he asked, discreetly nudging his head the two younger people in the room, who was watching him puzzled.

Angela looked between Hodgins and Zack and Kristen. She grinned brightly. "Oh, yeah, sure. I'll help you." The artist rose to her feet. With that, the two quickly filed out of the room leaving Zack and Kristen on Angela's office couch feeling beyond confused.

_Why do I feel like I was just set-up?,_ Kristen thought with furrowed brows.

"What just happened?" asked a blank faced Zack.

"It's probably better that we don't, Zack." she said with a shake of her head. He just stared at her, which made her looked away. He made a face and looked elsewhere.

An awkward silence fell.

Neither would make eye-contact or speak a syllable. They didn't know what to say to each other.

Actually, that wasn't true…they did know what to say. The two wanted to apologize, but didn't know _how_ to say or if was even a good time. Zack and Kristen were both afraid of rejection. They hadn't spoken since the beginning of the case.

_This is so stupid…,_ Kristen thought annoyed, twisting a finger in her hair. her green orbs drifted to different things in Angela's office. _It shouldn't this be hard to just _talk_ to someone, especially a guy._,she scolded herself until her eyes landed on the paused black and white video of the exact moment Miss. Reilly was suffocating Connor. A deep frown crossed the actress' face, sadness and pain tugging at her heartstrings and making her stomach queasy.

"I can't believe a mother would do such a thing." she whispered, catching Zack's attention.

"I beg your pardon?" he questioned, having not heard what she had said because it had been so soft.

Kristen jumped and bit and looked to Zack like a deer caught in headlights. Had she said that out loud? He just looked back at her with those puppy dog brown eyes of his, mild confusion and curiosity on his pale face.

She sighed deeply and looked to the video. "I can't believe a mother would do such a thing." she repeated, speaking louder than time.

"Oh, yes." Zack said. "It is a concept that is hard to fathom. However, it happens."

Kristen turned to him with a look of disdain on her face. "That's unacceptable. That's not right." she said—how could he talk about such things so calmly? "Mothers are one of the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally, no questions asked, wanting nothing in return. Doing such things to someone you love just for attention is disgusting, horrendous. Mothers aren't supposed to do that."

Zack thought over her words and studied her face, which was clearly upset—a mixture of anger, confusion, and sadness. This case seemed to affected her on more than one level. He didn't understand entirely, but it was he knew that it was a hard thing to comprehend. Anthropologically speaking, mothers were supposed to protect, not hurt—let alone kill—her offspring.

"I suppose I understand what you are saying, Kristen. I find it how to imagine my mother doing such a thing to me or to my siblings." Zack claimed.

A very small smile tugged at the corners of Kristen's mouth. She had heard a hint of affection in his usual monotone when he spoke of his family, especially his mom. "Your mother sounds nice." she said gently.

"She is. A very kind-hearted woman." Zack nodded. "Stern, but kind-hearted."

"That must be nice." She leaned back against the couch cushions, staring up at the ceiling.

"Isn't your mother like that?" he inquired of her.

Kristen slowly peered to the young genius beside her. Should she tell him? Family had always been a sensitive subject to her, especially over the past five years. Then, Booth's words echoed in her head: _"You've got to try to let people in more. It's hard I know, but it'll be worth it in the end."_ She had told Booth that she would try to be more open, not always keep everything to herself, to try to trust people more. And now was an opportune moment to do so, but could she really trust Zack?

Making a face, Kristen sea-foam green hues searched Zack's face as he stared at her quizzically-she hadn't said anything in a while. Sure, he was oblivious and was socially inept, but he seemed kind and trustworthy. She could trust him, right? At least with something like parents.

Sighing deeply, Kristen raked a hand through her long tresses. She looked back up at the ceiling again. "My biological mother may have been like your mother, but I don't really remember. She and my father died when I was really little. And my foster mother, Cheryl…well, you've spoken to her." she started hesitantly, emotionlessly.

"She seemed…" Zack drifted, not knowing the right word to describe the woman he had spoken to on the phone before Kristen got it back. He could use various adjectives, but didn't know if they'd offend Kristen.

"Like a bitch?" Kristen offered. He lips became a thin line. She laughed a little. "It's okay, really. You don't have to be delicate when describing Cheryl to spare my feelings. I know what she's like. My friends even call her Fuhrer."

His brows creased. "Fuhrer? As in Adolf Hitler?"

"Yep."

"Is that nickname supposed to be humorous?"

"Yes…and no."

"I don't--"

"You will. Either way, I don't really know what it's like to have an actual mom. Except…" Kristen paused, the need to shut her mouth and keep everything bottled up inside rising in her chest.

Zack watched her. She looked like she was fighting with herself or maybe she was just uncomfortable talking to him. He seemed to have that effect on people, he made others feel awkward. He frowned and said, "If I am making you feel uncomfortable, you do not have to speak with me."

"No, no, no, it's not that." Kristen shook her head. "It's just that… it's not easy for me to talk about her. See, the only person that was like a mother to me died to me five years ago. Her name was Sarah McCloud, she was my acting teacher back in New York." she explained, her voice so soft that her confession was almost inaudible, but the brunet beside her had heard.

"I'm…sorry for your loss." Zack said cautiously—that was the right thing to say when someone was mourning over a loved one's passing?

Kristen gave him a tiny, sad smile. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." he just nodded.

She returned the gesture and then, looked to the clock on the wall and made a face. "I better get back to school or my professors will have a fit." she announced regrettably, getting to her sneakered feet.

Zack stood, too. "I better prepare the bones for their burial."

The two, in an awkward silence with little to no eye-contact, headed for the door. Yet, Kristen stopped realizing that she still had something important to say the graduate student. "Wait, Zack," she called, grabbing his arm.

He looked back at her. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry about the whole not calling you back thing. My mom took my phone away from me. Otherwise, if I hadn't gotten in trouble, I would've answered when you called." Kristen said in a rush, her cheeks flushed.

"There is no need for apology. Hodgins told me what had occurred." Zack told her.

"Oh…"

_Hodgins and his big mouth._

"I misunderstood and it is I would should be apologize to you for not getting all of the facts and jumping to conclusions. Dr. Brennan tells us all the time to not--"

Feeling a big, unnecessary speech, Kristen cut him off, "It's fine. Apology accepted, Zack." She smiled up at him brightly, which unbeknownst to her made his insides turn warm.

Clearing his throat, Zack looked away. "G-Good to understanding that everything is-is cleared up." he said stiffly.

Kristen just laughed with a shake of her head—the boy was so weird, but adorable. Then, her cheeks became flushed, remembering something else that she wanted to tell him. Her index finger wound its way into a strand of her hair. "Anyway, since um…I have my phone back and you uh, still have m-my number…I th-think…if you called me to hang or whatever…I-I'll answer this time." she stammered anxiously.

Zack looked down at the short girl perplexed. "Are you indicating that you'd like me to call you?"

"Y-Yeah. Kinda." The hold on her hair became tighter, her blush reaching her ears.

"If that is what you desire."

"But only if you want to, y'know? N-No pressure…"

"I want to."

Kristen smiled again, which made him blush that time. "Great. Call me whenever you want to."

"R-Right." Zack replied awkwardly, nodding curtly.

Giggling with a roll of her eyes, the young woman got up on her tippy-toes and gave him a peck on the cheek. "See ya tomorrow, Zack."

With that, she left leaving Zack flustered and red in the face.

"S-See you tomorrow…" He felt as happy, but nauseous as he did the first time she did that.

…Why?


	8. Hide and Seek In a Bush

_Hey. Chapter eight. Sorry it's so short and not very good, but I didn't want it to ruin the next chapter, which will be longer and better. Anyway, thanks to those who have supported me so far, please keep it up. Also check out my other Zack/OC story "Crashed". I hope you somehwat like this chapter and if you do, please REVIEW! _

**_Disclaimer: I do NOT own Bones._**

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**Chapter Eight: Hide and Seek In a Bush**

**Five years **was a long time for friends to not see each other and that meant a lot catching up to do. Thus, Booth and Kristen made the effort, considering their busy schedules, to have at least one meal every day with each other. Today, since things were slow at the bureau and at the Jeffersonian for Booth and Kristen didn't have night classes, the two gathered in Booth's office for dinner, eating from the local deli. At the same time, they would talk about anything that came to mind or ask each other questions.

"So, you're television show will be starting up soon, right?" the FBI agent queried after swallowing a piece of his BLT. He was at his desk, typing away at his computer—he still had some paperwork to do.

"Mmhm," the actress nodded, a hand over her mouth because she was still in the middle of chewing on her Caesar salad. She swallowed and spoke, "We start filming next week. I finally get to meet my co-stars and everything. Apparently, the cast is full of some really experienced stars. It's…" She paused, a finger wounding itself into a strand of her golden hair. "…Kinda intimidating."

"Why? You're a good actress." Booth said.

"You think so?"

"Does it really matter what I think?"

"W-Well, it's just--"

The older person sitting across from her flashed her one of his charming smiles. "Just relax, Goldilocks. You'll be fine, just have confidence in yourself. End of story." he reassured.

Her green hues searched his dark brown ones until a smile graced her face. He was right. Booth usually was when it came to things like this. "Okay, I'll chill out." she stated.

"Good," the dark-haired man nodded. "Now, how's that boyfriend of yours?" His tone didn't sound as cheerful, it was a bit more strained. Kristen, in a sense, was like a younger sister or the daughter he never had—or at least that's how he felt back in New York—so the thought of her dating never really settled well with him. Nevertheless, she was an adult—though, more often, she didn't quite act like one—and she dated.

There was silence for a moment, which caught the ex-sniper's attention and he looked to the girl sitting in a wheelie chair Indian-styled. His brows furrowed noticing how hard Kristen was tugging at her hair—that a sure sign that she nervous, upset, or uncomfortable. "You okay there, Kris?"

"I don't have a boyfriend." she muttered, her voice emotionless.

"What? What happened to that Ren guy you were nuts about in New York?"

"It didn't work out. I broke up with him."

Booth's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why do I feel like there's more to this story?"

"There is, but it's long and I don't want to talk about it or him." Kristen stated icily.

"_Kristen,_" he began in annoyance. "What did I tell you about closing the rest of the world off?"

"I'm getting better!" she argued. "I told Zack about my family life!"

That caught the man off-guard. He blinked slowly. "You told_ Zack_—as in Zack Addy, Squinty—about your family life?" he questioned, anger radiating in his voice.

"Yeah, so? What's the problem?" the young woman said with an arched brow—why was he getting so mad?

Booth opened his mouth to tell exactly _what_ the problem—or problems—was with telling Zack of all people about her personal life, but he was cut off when Agent Santana entered his office with a stern look on his olive-skinned face. Booth stood and shot Kristen a look that clearly read: "This conversation isn't over" before addressing the other male in the room, "Yes, Agent Santana?"

"You've got a case, Agent Booth," Santana said gruffly, handing Booth a manila folder. "We got a call from an adolescent girl found a body in the back a mall. It might be that Charlie kid that went missing two days ago."

"Right," Booth curtly nodded. "Come on Goldilocks. We've got to pick up Bones and Squinty."

"Righteo." Kristen dumped the rest of her dinner in the garbage before sliding on her denim jacket and following her companion out of his office.

* * *

After picking up Brennan at a forensic anthropologist's seminar for college students, they picked up Zack at the Jeffersonian and headed to the mall where the body had been found.

The minute they arrived, Kristen was overwhelmed by bright lights that the FBI was using to search for the corpse and by the barking of dogs, who there were to assist. They were surrounded by high and dry grass, which was going to make finding the body hard to find.

Or at least that's what the twenty-one-year-old originally thought until Brennan ordered her assistant to put on some sort of suit that helped them see body heat. Zack was reluctant at first because according to him, it made him like the "Great Gazoo"—who was that, she wondered—but did as he was told in the end since he knew there was no point in arguing with his mentor.

However, when the young genius came out of the FBI trunk adorned in the clunky, orange and yellow attire, Kristen understood why he didn't want to wear it, despite its usefulness. The fair-haired woman tried controlling her snickers at the sight from behind her head, but, on the other hand, Booth didn't hide how funny he thought Zack looked.

"How are things in the Death Star, Darth Vader?" mocked Booth with a smirk. Kristen clasped both hands over her mouth to restrain herself, her shoulders shaking. When no one but them were laughing, Booth glanced between the scientists skeptically. "Please tell me you've seen at least _one_ Star Wars movie." he said.

"When I was a child," Brennan said nonchalantly. "Now, stop picking on Zack." she scolded Kristen and Booth.

"Can we please hurry this up? It is very stuffy in here." Zack said, his voice muffled by the large helmet. He stepped ahead of the group, turning his head this way and that in search of the body they were searching for. "With this, I can see body heat, so if the boy died recently than I shall see him in the brush of these bushes." he announced as the other three followed him through the bushes.

They walked further and further away from the mall, trudging through mud and pushing tall grass aside. Kristen had the most difficulty being the shortest. The grass tickled her nose and rose above her making it hard for her to see and concentrate. After her tenth sneeze, Booth helped her along, keeping her at his side.

Suddenly, "Over here! Shine your flashlight over here!" cried Zack from ahead of the group. He had pulled his helmet off his head and was pointing with a bulgy gloved finger at a spot in the grass.

They rushed over to him and Brennan shined her light of her flashlight to where the graduate was pointing.

Booth's lips were pursed tightly. One shaky hand was over Kristen's mouth. And Zack and Brennan were staring somberly.

They had found the body all right. It was small, something Kristen hadn't expected. He had to have been young. Gray and dried skin covered most of the boy's very small frame with a bit of his bones showing. Beside him, were his tiny clothes in perfect condition.

Kristen immediately felt her heart break. Children were always a weakness for her and to see something like that was pretty devastating. But she should've expected this? A boy had been missing for a couple of days and a girl a body, you didn't need to be a genius to put two and two together. Yet, it didn't stop the churning in her stomach any less. She frowned, only imagining what could've happened to this child. A part of her didn't want to know.


	9. One's Heart

_Yay! Two chapters in one day! So like I promised, this chapter longer and much better than the last, but only because it pack-filled with Zack/OC moments. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and if you do PLEASe, PLEASE REVIEW! Reviews keep me and ths story going--btw, thanks to those who have been supportig me thus far. Constrctive criticism is welcomed, but flaming is not. Also, check out my oter Zack/OC story calle "Crashed". Thankies!_

**_Disclaimer: I do NOT own Bones._**

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**Chapter Nine: One's Heart**

**She couldn't** get it out of her head. Not for one second. Not even when she had gotten to sleep that night. It had even haunted her dreams. That body of that little boy Charlie—Booth had called her the next day telling her regrettably that body had been indeed the child that went missing—was embedded in her brain. Even the activities of her classes hadn't been able to distract her from the image of that tiny corpse just lying there uncared for, alone, and bare. It was horrific.

How were those at the Jeffersonian and Booth able to do it every day? Sure, it was their job—murder and dead bodies—but it had to have some kind of effect on them, even on Zack and Brennan, right? It certainly had affected her. Then again, death wasn't her job, acting was. But she was going to be acting as a forensic anthropologist, so she was going to have to get use to looking at such things—the effects team was apparently _really_ good with the details. That was why Kristen was studying Dr. Brennan after all.

But _still…_Knowing such things, didn't make her stomach any less queasy, her throat loosen, or the image fade.

Kristen had class all day, so she couldn't go to the Jeffersonian, but, deep down, she was okay with that. She wasn't sure if she was ready to Charlie's remains again. Though, she did miss seeing Zack, Hodgins, Angela, Brennan, and Booth. She hadn't known them all for a long time, but after their last class, the college student felt like she had gotten closer to the little family there, especially Zack.

Anyway, it was Common Hour for the students at her college, so that meant grabbing lunch for most. And that's what Austen, Max, and Kristen were going to do together. The others couldn't come as Meghan and Isaac wanted time alone as they were still in their honeymoon-phase, even though their honeymoon was over and Charlotte had the flu, so Zoey was at their apartment taking care of her.

The three were talking happily—Kristen was trying to—as they strolled the large campus towards Kristen and Austen's apartment. They were discussing the movie they had watched in Short Film's class and unbelievably stupid it was because the acting, lighting, and the script had been more than poor—in other words, they were making fun of it.

"Seriously," Austen began, using his free hand that wasn't holding Max's to wave dramatically. "That director should be shot to ever make such a movie." His friends laughed, agreeing.

"I think the actors are the ones who should be shot, degrading themselves like that." Kristen chuckled, her hands tucked into her denim shorts' back pocket—the shorts were over gray leggings, so she wasn't cold in the autumn air.

Max said through his guffaws, his gray hues twinkling, "Hey, at least the main male actor was banging."

"True. Very true." concurred Austen and Kristen.

All of sudden, Kristen's cell phone went off in her leather jacket pocket, her ringtone singing "Get Back to Hogwarts" from A Very Potter Musical. She arched a brow and fished the phone out of her pocket to flip it open to see the caller I.D.

_Zack Addy._

Her brows furrowed. "Why is Zack calling me?" the blonde questioned aloud dumbfounded. Yeah, he had called her a few times since she told him to, but he had never called in the middle of the day since he was at work and needed to concentrate.

Beside her, the boys went "_Ooooh! Zack_!" making her roll her sea foam green colored spheres. She gave them the "bird" to which they just laughed at before continuing their conversation.

Kristen pressed the "Answer" button on her phone before placing the technology to her ear. "Hey, Zack. What's going on?" she greeted.

"_Are you free at this time?_" His reply was robotic-like like it always was, but Kristen sensed a hint of distress in it.

"Is everything okay? You sound a bit…off." Kristen asked with worry, ignoring the looks Austen and Max were giving her.

"…_Are you free at this time?_" Zack repeated. Oh, yeah, he sounded upset—well, he sounded upset for _him._

"Uh, yeah, kinda. I was just going back to my apartment to have lunch with my two friends, but otherwise, I'm not doing anything." she answered hesitantly with her brows creased at her temple. "Why?"

"_I-I was hoping t-to speak to you about a certain manner,_" he said quickly, nervously on the other end. "_But I do not want to take y-you away from your com-companions or a meal--_"

Kristen cut him off, "Do you want me to pick up at the Jeff, Zack?"

"…_Yes, please._"

"Okay, I'll be over in a few."

"_Thank you, Kristen._"

"Don't mention it."

With that, she hung up and turned to her best friend and his boyfriend, who were staring at her in concern. "I have to go pick up my friend, Zack at his job. He sounds upset about something. Do you guys mind starting lunch without me?" she stated.

"Not at all." Austen answered. Max shook his head. They, especially Austen, could see how worried Kristen was about Zack and how much she wanted to help.

"And do you two mind if I bring him back to the apartment?"

"No. Now, go get him."

Kristen beamed. "Thanks. I'll be right back." She kissed both of their cheeks before taking off down the sidewalk towards the school parking lot.

The boys watched the short woman's back disappear. Then, Max turned to the brunet next to him with a smile on his pretty face. "Are you sure that she doesn't have a thing for this guy?"

Austen chortled. "Oh, no, I'm sure, but that's for her to figure out." he said. He tugged on the ink-haired boy's hand. "Now, come on. I am seriously craving for your Meaty Mac n' Cheese." Beaming, Max just allowed the older boy to pull him along to the apartment Austen shared with Kristen.

* * *

Zack had been waiting for in the front of the building when Kristen drive up to it in her light blue Beetle. He smiled very little, but she could that he was anything but happy. His face was pale—paler than normal—and his brown eyes were glossy. She said nothing though and told him to get it. He seemed reluctant doing so, but did nonetheless. And with that, they took off to her apartment neither saying a word the entire ride.

It wasn't before long that they arrived at Kristen's college with her parking her precious vehicle in the parking lot. She turned off the engine and both exited the car. Kristen patted the blue hood affectionately before motioning the silent and rigid genius to follow her.

"You're attached to your car." Zack said out of the blue. The two of them were walking side by side, heading to the apartment buildings that were on campus.

Kristen stopped mid-wave of greeting a passerby and peered to the brunet man. Her cheeks became flushed, but she grinned. "Sure am. That thing is like my baby. I was devastated when Cheryl took it away when I was grounded." she admitted freely.

"Your baby? I don't understand. I don't see how a car could hold such importance as a human child would to their mother." His brows furrowed like they always did when he was confused about something.

Kristen looked at him oddly. "You are a guy, right?"

"My anatomy should tell you so." Zack pointed out, not knowing why she'd ask such an obvious question.

"No, no," she shook her head, making her long tresses swish about her small frame. She released a tiny laugh. "I know you're a guy. I'm blonde, not stupid. I just meant that what you said was really un-guy-like."

"That's not a word."

"All I'm saying is that I'm surprised that you sound like you don't like cars like a lot of guys do."

"I don't see the fascination, but that may only be because I cannot drive and choose not to." Zack claimed logically. He sounded like his usual self, but to Kristen, everything he said was incredibly forced. Not to mention, his posture was a lot straighter and tenser than normal.

"You can't drive?" she inquired astounded.

"If you had the same understanding of structural engineering as I do, you'd oppose to driving as well." he informed.

"Hm," Kristen thought for a moment then, shrugged. "Guess it's a good that I'm not a genius then. Anyway, I hope you haven't eaten."

"No, I have not." He couldn't eat even if he wanted to, not with the way his stomach was acting up.

"Good, 'cuz my friend Max is making Meaty Mac n' Cheese."

"I've never heard of such a thing."

Kristen looked at him strangely again as the two reached her apartment building. "You eat macaroni and cheese for lunch every day, but you've never heard of Meaty Mac n' Cheese?" she said in disbelief.

"Is that not what I just said?" Zack tilted his head to the side.

"Touché," she laughed, sliding her keycard through the key-lock. It beeped, recognizing her as a student that lived there and the glass doors unlocked. Kristen pushed opened the door and allowed Zack to enter the lobby first. She filed in after. "Basically, Meaty Mac n' Cheese is the king of any kind of macaroni and cheese. It's just Easy Mac with pieces of burger meat in it."

"Sounds interesting."

"Yeah, it's delicious. You'll like it, I promise."

"I shall take your word for it, Kristen."

She gave him a smile, which he didn't return—well, not quite. He was still upset despite the casual and cheerful conversation they had just had and that made Kristen upset. What was bothering him? Well, she was just going have to find out when they reached her apartment.

Since the elevator was broken, Zack and Kristen had to trudge up four flights of stairs to reach her floor—Zack didn't seem to mind, but Kristen _hated_ walking up stairs. Ultimately, the two got to the actress' floor and made their way down the noisy hallway—music was blasting, TVs were playing, or residents were just talking loudly—to apartment 417.

Kristen had her key, but since Austen was home already, she decided to just knock. Shortly, the door opened to reveal the musician. He smiled upon seeing his best friend and her friend. "Hey, Bunny. Welcome back." he greeted, kissing Kristen on the cheek.

She returned the greeting and entered their apartment. Austen turned to Zack, who was standing there awkwardly. Austen offered an inviting grin and motioned the older male to come inside. "Well, don't just stand there. Come on in. I don't bite."

Zack just stiffly nodded and stepped inside, allowing Austen to close the door behind him.

The apartment was small, which was expected for a couple of broke college students, but there was just enough room for two people and provided enough warmth to make it seem like a good home. There was a living room that was separated from the kitchen, where Max and Kristen were, by a tiled island counter. To the right of the living room was a short hallway that lead to the single bathroom and two bedrooms. The place was considerably neat considering how young of people lived there, but there were DVDs, CDs, and school books scattered about.

"You must be Zack, right?" came Austen's voice from beside Zack. His voice snapped the forensic anthropologist-to-be out of his thoughts; he had been observing the space with mild interest.

Zack turned his floppy hair to the younger male. "Uh, yes. That would be me." he answered automatically.

"I'm Austen, Kris' best friend and roommate." Austen said pleasantly, holding out a hand to shake. Zack hesitantly shook it, taking his hand away quickly once Austen let go. Austen looked at him inquisitively for a moment because of his action, but continued to smile and speak, "It's nice to finally meet you, Zack. Kris never shuts up about you."

That surprised Zack. Kristen talked about him to other people? His face became slightly warm. "Sh-She's speaks of me?"

Austen inwardly smirked. "_Aaaaaalllll_ the time."

"Shut up, Austen!" shouted Kristen from the kitchen. She was leaning over the counter shooting daggers at Austen. Her face was bright red. "Stop telling Zack stupid things, jerkface."

"Love you too, Bunny." laughed her companion. Max was even laughing from over the pot where he was mixing burger meat into the macaroni and cheese.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She rolled her eyes, but was smiling nonetheless. She glanced to Zack, who was watching the entire scene with a puzzled expression—Kristen's interaction with her friends was strange to him. "Come on over here, Zack. Grab some food and then, we go into my room and talk about what you wanted to talk to me about." she said.

Saying nothing, Zack complied and walked over to the kitchen. Max, flashing the other a toothy grin, handed him a bowl of hot food. With that, Kristen, with her own bowl, led Zack down the hall to her bedroom.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do, kiddies!" Austen called after them cheekily.

"Shut you face, Austen!" Kristen yelled back. She then, gently pushed Zack into her room and slammed the door shut. The blonde smiled embarrassed. "Sorry about that. Austen loves to pick on me."

"Your friends are…interesting." Zack said slowly, not knowing the right word to describe Austen and Max or Kristen's bizarre relationship with them.

"You have no idea," she shook her head with a sigh. "And you haven't even met Zoey, Lottie, Meghan, or Isaac yet. Well, you met Zoey, but you haven't been "properly" introduced."

"Should I be afraid?"

"Ha! Maybe."

Zack just stared at her blankly, his eyes still glossy but as not as much as they were when Kristen first picked him up at the Jeffersonian.

"Anyway, please make yourself at home. Sit whatever you'd like." Kristen said.

Zack nodded and looked around for a good place to situate himself.

To his surprise, Kristen kept her room very clean. Everything had its place and was very organized. Books filled took bookcases that stood beside each other being alphabetically and chronologically arranged on the shelves. Playbills from Broadway Musicals, movie posters, and pictures of friends and herself covered her soft green walls. Her bed, which had lavender bedding, was neatly made with a single turquoise and old looking teddy bear rested amongst the three pillows. Her desk was basically cleared of anything except for homework, a script, her laptop, and a desk lamp—everything having its own place.

Zack pulled out her desk chair and sat down on it, placing his bowl of Meaty Mac n' Cheese on his lap. Kristen smiled a little and sat on the edge of her bed, crossing her legs. "So," she began, spooning some of her lunch into her mouth. "What did you want to talk to me about? You sounded really upset on the phone."

"Did I?" he questioned, looking to the female curiously. He had been so sure than he had hid his emotions very well like he usually did.

"Yeah, kinda. Upset for you, at least."

"I see…"

"So what's the problem?"

His eyes adverted to his food, which had no intention of eating. He just didn't want to seem rude by not taking it—that's what his mother told him.

The graduate student was silent for a while, but she didn't push him to say anything. She just waited patiently, eating her food. Finally, Zack spoke, softly, avoiding eye-contact, "…They are the smallest remains I have ever worked on."

Kristen's brows furrowed. Was he talking about the body they found recently? "Do you mean Charlie?"

"Yes."

"Oh…"

"I have never worked on bones so small. It's…It's…" Zack was lost for words. He did not know how to describe the tightening of his chest or sick sensation in the pit of his stomach. They eating at him, which was not possible, but that's how it felt. He felt horrible.

"It's tragic. Sickening." Kristen finished for him. The young man snapped his head to her. Her face was solemn and her bright green eyes had turned glassy.

"Yes," he agreed after a moment. Those were good words. Maybe not the best or the most intelligent, but they worked. "Is it natural to feel that way? Because Dr. Brennan says it is. It is natural for us as human beings to be protective of those younger than us."

"And she's right." Kristen concurred. "Whatever happened to that boy, however he was killed--"

"His chest was crushed and he was sexually assaulted. That is what we've learned so far." Zack interjected.

The second he saw her face contort in agony, he regrets saying anything. "I-I'm sorry. I've upset y-you." he apologized briskly, her expression pulling at a cord within him that he didn't know existed—was it even possible for such a thing to occur?

"No," Kristen took a deep breath and closed her eyes before opening them again. "I-It's okay. I was g-going to hear it eventually. It was just a bit…shocking."

"I'm sorry." the brunet male said again.

"It's fine." she repeated.

It didn't sound fine. Zack frowned, his brows furrowing. "Dr. Brennan said such things are going to occur often in my line of work." he confessed stiffly. That thought made his insides squirm just like they did the first time he had heard them. "She said I'm never going to get used to it, but I have to pull back emotionally. "Put my heart in a box" as she so metaphorically put it." he added.

"Don't." was Kristen's immediate response.

His dark eyes flashed to her light ones. "I-I beg your pardon?"

"Don't put your heart it a box. Don't do it."

"I don't--"

She got up from her bed, placed hers and his lunch on top of her desk and took his hands in hers—her hands were so very cold compared to his warm ones. Her optics locked with his gravely. "Please, don't put your heart in a box, Zack. You can't do that every time you face something like this. Yeah, it's hard, painful even, but if you always pull back emotionally, you'll eventually end up feeling nothing. You'll see kids like Charlie or anyone for that matter as a person, just a pile of bones. The pain makes you human. It won't make your job easy, but do you want to end as an empty shell, a hardhearted shell?" she said, her voice almost frantic. Kristen squeezed his hands. "I don't want to see you end up like that. I like you just the way you are. if you always put your heart in a box, you won't be Zack. You won't be the person I know. And yeah, sure I haven't know you for a long time, but I can't bear the thought of you not being the way you are now. So please promise me you won't pull back emotionally, at least not completely? I promise I will be right by your side if it gets hard because this whole thing hurts me just as much as it hurts you."

Zack was speechless, which was rare for him. He knew every word in the English language, but nothing intelligent, not a single word from his large vocabulary would escape past his lips. all he could do was stare up at the girl before him, who was shakily holding his hands and had a look of fear and desperation on her usually happy face.

She was feeling the same way he was feeling about Charlie's murder. Her reaction was more intense than his, but she knew how he was feeling, how much he hated the fact that someone so small and young had been killed and treated in such a manner. Her logic was a bit perplexing and he didn't entirely understand, but he could agree with it. The blonde didn't want him to lose a sense of himself, to lose a piece of him that made him—despite the fact that many teased him about being an alien. He did not the idea of feeling as sick as he felt right now, but he _did_ like the concept of Kristen being there to support him when he did. That was very encouraging, heartwarming even—he knew that couldn't physically happen, but the concept was nice.

After a long time of saying nothing and just searching Kristen's eyes, Zack finally spoke, "Thank you, Kristen. I will promise to not "put my heart in a box" and I am grateful that you've promised to support in such situations."

A smile broke out on her face despite the fact she looked like she was about to break down into tears. Kristen got down onto her knees and threw her arms around his neck. She buried her face in his neck, letting a few tears escaped dampening his shirt. "Thank, God…" she whispered.

Not having expected the physical contact or use to it, Zack just blushed and patted her back awkwardly. "I-I didn't know you were religious." was the only thing he could think of saying.

Kristen wetly laughed. She pulled away with a shake of her head and wiped any excess tears away—she had been scared for a moment that Zack might up being a heartless shell of a human being; he had too good of a heart to do so. "Y-You're so w-weird." she told him lightheartedly, which made him make a face.

The young woman exhaled deeply, composing herself and picking herself up off the floor. "We should probably finish our lunches and get back to the Jeffersonian." she announced.

"You're going to stay? Don't you have classes all day?" Zack asked curiously.

"Yeah, but it doesn't hurt to ditch every now and then. Besides, I want to see the others and help in any way I can." Kristen shrugged. "Why? Don't you want me to come?"

Zack jumped, thinking he had offended her. "N-No, I didn't mean it like that! O-Of course I want you t-to come, but--"

She laughed, stopping him from his frantic rambling. "I was just messing with you, Zack. Calm down."

"Oh…"

"Just eat your food, so we can get going, you goofball."

"Uh, r-right."

Letting out a small chuckle, Kristen shook her head before picking up her bowl of Meaty Mac n' Cheese to finish eating.

Zack had a good heart, but he was so strange sometimes.


End file.
